"It's all right, little peach. I'm not going to hurt you."
Karma slowly opened her eyes to the sound of an unfamiliar voice. It was a man's, soft and low. It was crooning to someone, promising that he wasn't going to hurt his "lovely flower" or his "little peach."
But as Karma's head and heart pounded, she knew no one should trust that voice.
It was a voice laced with evil.
Karma opened her eyes fully, carefully rising from the ground as she took in her surroundings.
What the...?
Instead of a cold, white, sterile hospital room like she was expecting, she found herself in a darkened bedroom. Silver moonlight illuminated the room through a window, showing everything nearly drained of color. A canopy bed was in one corner, where beside it a table held an alarm clock. It's pale numbers told that it was the middle of the night, but the bed was empty.
Turning, she saw a young girl cowering in a corner, shivering. Her white nightgown shone in the moonlight, making her seem like an angel.
The child couldn't have been more than seven years old. She wide, terrified eyes were brown, a warm, lovely shade that was familiar to Karma. It seemed as though the girl was staring at Karma, but the longer she stared, Karma realized she was looking at something behind her.
Turning once more, Karma came face-to-face with a man. Feeling her breath catch in her throat, she stared at what she assumed was the owner of the voice that she had heard earlier.
The man's eyes were gray, holding a coldness that was familiar to her. The stared through Karma and at the cowering little girl, a hungry glow filling them. Karma felt her chest tighten as she recognized the light in his eyes.
Lust.
"It's alright, little daisy," the man said, his voice hushed, as though he meant it to be soothing. "You don't need to hide form me."
The trembling girl whimpered, pressing herself further into her corner. A lock of mahogany hair tumbled from behind the girl, covering one of her brown eyes.
Karma reached out for the girl, needing to protect her from the disgusting man slowly getting closer and closer to her. But when Karma grabbed the child's hand, it fell right though.
Trying again and again, Karma failed to take the eerily familiar girl into her arms and make her safe. Desperation filled the midnight-haired teen as she realized that there was nothing she could do for the frightened girl.
Tears filled both girls' eyes as the man slowly crawled forward, turning feet into inches.
Inches to centimeters.
As the little girl began to weep, two things struck Karma at once.
One: This was the man in the truck with the menacing eyes. The one who had tried to hit her and Andi.
Two: This was not the first time the man had entered this room, hungry for the taste of young flesh. This had to have happened before, or else the girl wouldn't be so afraid.
Horrified, Karma watched, helpless as the man with cruel eyes put the innocent child in his lap.
Sneering, the man muttered, "Silly little rose. You know I love you. You know I would never hurt you."
Despite his words, the child squirmed, crying, "Don't touch me, Uncle Peter! Don't touch me!"
Karma felt as though she had been slapped. Her throat closing, the child's name fell from her lips in a sob.
"Cristin."
A roll of thunder broke through the vision as the man leaned his head down to press his disgusting lips to Cristin's. Sobbing, Karma reached out, trying once more to protect her love. But as she cried the girl's name once more, everything went black, and the last thing she heard was a little girl's scream.

"Don't touch me," a girl's voice warned, full of venom. "Don't you dare touch me, or I swear to God I will kill you."
Cristin?
Karma slowly opened her eyes as a man laughed and said, "You can never kill me. You'd go to jail. Imagine what that would do to your precious father when he found out you killed his only brother."
Opening her eyes fully, Karma sat up in what she recognized as Cristin's bedroom. Looking around, she saw Cristin standing defensively in the center of the dark purple room, seventeen and beautiful once more.
Cristin’s jaw was clenched tightly, her eyes full of hate as she glared at the man who was staring back at her, arrogance in his stance and an all too familiar hunger in his chilling eyes.
"I won't go to jail when I tell them what you've done to me, you bastard. It'll be ruled as self-defense, and I'll be free of you forever," she growled, her eyes never leaving her uncle's face.
Fear momentarily flashed through Peter's eyes, but confidence quickly took its place as he said smoothly, "Who would believe you? You're the girl who tried to kill yourself. For all we know, you could still be insane."
Cristin instinctively crossed her arms to hide the scars from when she had cut herself freshmen year. She cried, "That was years ago! And you and I both know I never tried to kill myself."
"No one's going to care," he murmured. Eyes wide, Karma watched as Peter stepped forward, reaching out to touch Crissy.
Cristin side stepped away, slapping his hand as she snarled, "I don't give a shit if I go to jail. I don't care, just as long as you're dead, and I'm free of you forever, you son of a bitch."
His cold eyes flashing, Peter laughed and mocked, "My, my. Such language. Swearing like a drunken trucker is not very attractive behavior, my dear. And neither is disrespecting your elder's wishes."
Fear and tears rose in Cristin's eyes as he cornered her, grapping a fistful of her brown curls.
Struggling to keep her voice steady as she spoke through her tears, she threatened, "Let go of me, or I'll scream."
Using his free hand, Peter slapped her, any patience he once had gone. He growled, "You'll do no such thing. If you scream, I'll kill you." To prove his point he pulled back his black leather jacket, revealing a gun hiding underneath.
Karma's heart started to race with fear as she watched her love begin to sob, trying in vain to break free of her uncle's grasp. The more she wriggled, the tighter his grip became until she couldn't move at all.
Finally giving up, Cristin closed her eyes and whispered, "Karma, I'm so sorry."
Reeling, Karma put her fist to her mouth to keep from crying out, even though she knew no one could hear her. Closing her own eyes, she hoped the worst would be over soon.
But the sounds of struggling stopped as Peter absorbed what Cristin had said.
"Who's Karma?" he asked in a dangerous tone, anger boiling beneath the surface.
Cristin didn't say a word. She opened her eyes and stared at Peter, defiance rising in her eyes once more.
"Who's Karma?!" he screamed, forcefully pushing her down and pulling out the gun he had shown earlier.
Crumbling to the ground, she looked up at him, a sneer forming on her face despite the fresh tears falling from her eyes.
"Tell me who Karma is," he demanded, cocking the gun.
"Karma is my girlfriend."
"What?!"
"Karma is my girlfriend!"
He stared at her, his eyes wild with fury. His breathing heavy, he whispered, his voice deadly, "So what? You're a dyke now?" His voice rising, the gun never leaving its target, he screamed, "Huh? Is that what you're telling me?!"
Nodding, Cristin sneered, "Yes."
Peter exploded. "You piece of shit! I'll kill you!" Cristin only stared, daring him to shoot her.
Karma held her breath, waiting for the explosion of a gun. But Peter reconsidered, a new idea formulating in his sick mind.
"No," he said slowly, his fog-colored eyes flashing. "No, I won't kill you." He smiled cruelly, his cold eyes locking with Cristin's warm ones. "I'll kill your girlfriend."
Karma gasped as Cristin cried, "No!"
Jumping off the ground, Cristin started to beg, "You can't kill Karma. Please, kill me instead, Uncle Peter. I'll do anything, just please, please don't kill Karma!"
Karma's emerald eyes widened as she watched the girl she loved offer her own life to save hers. Tears filled her eyes once more, and she began to sob.
Peter considered Cristin's plea carefully, lowering the gun slightly as he did. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he sighed, "I won't kill you or your girlfriend." As both the teens let out a sigh of relief, he dropped the bomb.
"I won't kill you or your girlfriend," he repeated, "but you will kill yourself."
"What?" The two teens screamed the word in perfect unison, hoping against all hope that the horrible man was joking.
"I'm not sending my ass to jail just for a couple of lezbos," he said, raising the gun once more. "But if you kill yourself, I won't send your girlfriend down to hell, even though that's where the both of you belong.
"You have one week to hang yourself. Don't leave a suicide note; don't leave any hint that I'm making you do this.
"If you don't do exactly as I say, your precious girlfriend will die. I can promise you that."
Peter left the room, leaving Cristin silently crying as she contemplated what she should do. The familiar sight of Cristin chewing on her fingernails as she thought racked another sob through Karma's already weary body.
Suddenly, the curly-haired girl's beautiful brown eyes lit up as she thought of a plan. Taking out a black composition notebook, she began to write. When she was finished, she placed a neon sticky note on the cover, the words "Give to Karma" written in her familiar scrawl.
Karma recognized the notebook as the one she had been given a few days after Cristin had died. She hadn't even begun to look at it, let alone read it.
Before Karma could contemplate this anymore, everything went black once more, with the last thing she heard being a neck snapping, and a teenage girl taking her final breath.

A few weeks later, Karma, Andi, and Peter were all leaving the hospital. Amazingly (and fortunately, in Peter's case), all three had survived the crash. Even more amazingly, several eye witness reports stated that a beautiful teenage girl with warm brown eyes and mahogany curls had stayed beside Andi and Karma until the ambulance had shown up.
You're still watching over me, aren't you, Cristin?
The thought comforted Karma as she sat in the backseat of her parents' car, heading home for the first time in what felt like an eternity. As soon as she got there, she knew she would have to find the notebook her angel had given her. All the answers were in there, and she knew in her gut that it was the reason why Peter had tried to kill her. She didn't know if it would convict him of being the reason behind Cristin's suicide, but it would at least get him behind bars for the years of raping and sexually abusing Cristin.
Don't worry, Crissy, she thought as she closed her emerald eyes. We'll catch him and throw his ass in jail, where he belongs.
I swear my life on it.