Randi's brother, Jacob, was a year older and a grade ahead of us.
To celebrate she had a campout, and her brother's friends came too.
Not sure how it came up, but I joked about mooning the boys.
"You better not," Jacob warned.
I kept bringing it up to him as he came around pestering us, warning him that if he didn't stop I'd moon him.
"If you do," he warned. "I'll beat you up."
The next morning after the other girls left, I was still waiting for my Mother.
Randi and I watched T.V on bean bags in her basement.
Jacob bounded into the room. He ripped the one from beneath his sister and swung it at her. They started tugging it back and forth. I grabbed ahold of my friend's end, helping her to wrangle it back as we giggled.
Furious, he screamed, but I flopped back on my bean bag, content to ignore him and watch cartoons.
Randi tossed her's beside me, but before she could use it, Jacob snatched it back, put it over me, and laid on top, pressing my face into the lumpy fabric.
At first, even though it hurt, I laughed and squirmed, trying to get out.
But he was bigger than me, and I couldn't push him off. I told him to get off. I told him I couldn't breathe.
"No, this is for saying you'd moon me!"
Finally, his sister begged him off of me, and he scrambled upstairs.
Randi and I fought, "Why did he do that? Why didn't you help me?"
She blew me off, "That's what you get for saying you'd moon him. Those kinds of girls get hurt."
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
