“Come on,” Pat said, “don’t be shy, have fun with it. Rub it, strike it, stretch it.. it won’t bite!”I did. Warming up to it, I started to...play, looking at John in order to see if he liked it. He did. It made me feel excited and I started kissing and licking, wondering at the same time at what I was doing. John said “that’s good… take it in your mouth… come on” and I did, fastening my lips around it while still caressing it with my tongue up and down. I could tell how much John liked it and it. The first real time that I remember anything being different was after I turned 5. That year was when the accident happened. I don’t remember much, the doctor’s say I probably won’t ever have those memories back.. and I’m glad. My father says that the neighboring boy had invited me down to the creek to play. That was the day that the city was using dynamite to clear some limestone from the creek so they could lay concrete and put a bridge over it. I guess I got to close. Everyone says I’m. More

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