Later that year, my brothers and I were playing around upstairs. My brothers started sitting in the window together, because one was closed and one was open. I wanted to sit in the window like them, but every time I'd ask, Jack would say, "No, because the other window is open". Me being four, I kept on begging until Jack got tired of hearing me and went downstairs. He never came back upstairs, so I just started playing with my toys. Nick was still up there, and he offered to put me in the open window. I didn't think anything about it being open because I was four, Nick was six (and of course I wasn't thinking about what Jack had said before). Nick was bigger than me, so he helped me get up in the window. Then, he got up in the closed window. We were just talking and playing around, when all of the sudden - I leaned back, and FELL out the window!!!
I don't remember falling at all. I remember hearing Nick run downstairs yelling, "I killed sissy, she went out the window." By this time, I was WALKING in the back door. I had on a red shirt, and white pants. I landed in red clay, but none of the clay was on my pants. My mom, Jack, and Nick was white as a ghost when I walked in the back door. My mom looked at me and said, "What happened, and why are you coming in the back door?" To which I replied, "I fell out the window, and Jesus caught me. I'm ok."
No one believed me. My mom and granny took me to the hospital thinking something was seriously wrong. But it wasn't. The doctors couldn't believe it either, they kept me overnight to run test. After all the test, riding around the hospital in a red wagon, and trying to make everyone believe me – They finally started saying, "Maybe Jesus did catch her, because there's no way a four-year-old could fall out a two story window, and not even get a scratch." I didn't know how to act - they believed me, they finally believed me!
Once I realized they believed me, I started having flashbacks of what Mark had done to me. I started thinking that since they believe this, surely, they would believe me about what Mark did. But I didn't dare take that chance of hurting my mom, and them not believing me. So, I kept it bottled up, and to myself.
YOU ARE READING
You Just Think You Know Me
غير روائيDedicated to every victim of abuse, DV, and to anyone suffering from depression & anxiety. It is time for us to tell our stories! This is my story! Stand up and Speak Out.
