***Chapter 1***
First Blood
I met Her when I was four years old. By
the time I was five years old, I knew She hated me. I was at Chuck’s house for
a barbeque with my sister, my Dad and Her. Chuck was a skinny, black dude who
lived in the San Fernando Valley and had a built-in pool in his backyard. He
was one of my Dad’s friends.
I liked being in the pool back then
but I could not swim at all. Usually, I would play on the steps and if I
decided to explore, I would hold on to the side of the pool and slowly pull
myself along the edge. She was in the pool too.
On that day, I remember clearly feeling
confidant and venturing further along the side of the pool than usual moving
toward the deep end. I could hear Her laughing and talking to other people who
were outside socializing near the shallow end. She stood in the middle of the
pool at the edge of the shallow end just before the floor of the pool sloped
down to an 8-foot depth, so She could still stand on the bottom with only her
shoulders and head above water. My sister had gotten out of the pool and headed
into the house to play scrabble. My Dad had gone in the house too so I was left
alone with Her in the pool.
While cruising the deep end, my hands
slipped off the edge of the pool. I struggled to re-grab the edge but kept
slipping until the edge was no longer in my reach. I turned my body toward Her
and as I went under water, I made eye contact with Her. Instead of rushing to
help me, the five-year-old child, She turned her back to me letting me slip
beneath the water’s surface. I looked down thinking I would eventually touch
the bottom of the pool with my feet then I could push myself back to the
surface for air but I stopped sinking and began floating. I stretched my legs
and feet trying to reach the bottom but couldn’t. I looked up and I was too far
beneath the surface to splash. I stretched my arms out from my sides hoping to
feel the wall but that was still out of reach. I floated in the deep end. I
could still hear Her laughing and paying no attention to what was happening
behind Her. I noticed my shadow on the pool floor. My arms were still stretched
out from my sides and I could see the silhouette of my hair and my body as I
floated in limbo between the water’s surface and pool floor. Seeing my shadow
seemed to calm me. I didn’t feel panic anymore and stopped struggling.
Eventually, my vision turned to darkness as if I was falling asleep.
Surrounding sounds of voices and music seemed to get further away as I drifted
into silence. Then, with my right hand, I felt hair. It was Her hair. She had
absurdly long, straight, dark, brown hair back then. That was the trend in
1974.
As I said, I remember
feeling her hair with my fingers of my right hand so I grabbed a hand full
twisting the long stands around my fingers and I pulled down as hard as I
could. I heard Her scream as I pulled the back of her head toward the water.
She fought against my pull and inadvertently pulled me up to the surface where
I gasped for air. People came running outside to the pool. She pushed me back
to the edge and I was pulled from the pool still choking and vomiting water. As
I labored to breathe, my Dad comforted me.
I could hear Her still in the pool complaining that I had pulled her
hair as if I was trying to drown her. She demanded I be punished.
If you would like to read the rest of this non-fiction story, then buy my book by clicking the link: Vile: This One is Personal
