10:58 a.m. on October 06, 2004
I was attacked one day while walking home from school. I was in the first grade and still wearing my Catholic School uniform. I was down the hill and around the corner from my house when I saw a boy I recognized walking with his friend. The boy was Eddy Baker, who was 5 years older than me and occasionally hung out with my brother. I had a sort of crush on him, so it was very notable to see him. He was across the street and I watched him as he said goodbye to his friend and made his way toward me. I thought he was just going to walk by, but instead he grabbed me and jammed his knee into my stomach as hard as he could. The wind was instantly knocked out of me. I hunched over and began to run up the hill away from him while still in the hunched position holding my stomach. I ran all the way to the top of the hill before I was finally able to breathe and then cry. One of my neighbors saw me and walked me the rest of the way home. I told my mother and brother what happened and the 3 of us got in the car to look for him. I was quite surprised when we actually did find him in another neighborhood walking with the same boy I had seen him say goodbye to earlier. My brother got out of the car and had a talk with him. A few minutes later my brother got back in the car and said: “Eddy said he did not do it and I believe him.” What? Why would I make that shit up? I was 6 years old, for chrissake!

12 years later when I was living in New York, my brother called me up and drunkenly confessed that the reason why he said I was lying about the attack, was because that he and Eddy had stolen a ladies purse at the roller skating rink and my brother never gave Eddy his share of the cash. That is why Eddy attacked me and that is why my brother covered it up. He tearfully apologized and I forgave him immediately.

Flash forward 11 years when I was 29, Eddy Baker came up in conversation at a family party. My brother looked at me and said: “You don’t believe me, but I beat Eddy up after that incident”. I reminded him that he was the reason for the incident in the first place and he then recanted his confession, saying: “No, some other kid stole the purse”. I froze. He had forgotten all about setting things straight and was now the hero in this new version of the story. My brother has an illness that causes him to compulsively lie and he does not even know the real truth.

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