I can't remember what happened first *TRIGGER WARNING!!!*

*TRIGGER WARNING* I speak of being molested by my uncle. Do not read if this will trigger you!

I remember sitting on the bed, a twin bed, trying hard to pull my shirt down to hide my naked lower half. Uncle Terry was standing at the window, Tonya and one of her friends was peering in. I can’t make out the look on Tonya’s face. She knew, though, I think, she knew what happened to me. It was day time. The light from outside was pouring into the room. We were in the house on McGregor. So much happened there. I can recall so many other things but I can’t remember what happened before Tonya in the window, or Uncle Terry trying to close the curtains or me trying to pull my shirt down.

I can piece it together. I was four, we hadn’t been living there long. Terry came later. So, maybe I was five. No, I was around four because that was also the time I was going to school, kindergarten, half days, in the morning. That’s when I drew the picture of my naked father and naked uncle. I was too young to be there, they said, but they were more concerned as to why I drew those pictures. Then I didn’t go to that school anymore. Too young? That’s what my mother said later. The truth? I don’t know. I was probably taken out because they asked too many questions.

I was four. It was day. What time of day was it? Tonya was there. School must have been out. It couldn’t have been the weekend because my parents didn’t work weekends. Terry was suppose to watch us until our parents got home. I can remember four times he molested me. But this one time I can’t remember what happened before I remembered trying to pull my shirt down. Why can’t I remember that?? I can remember the day he walked in on me while I was using the restroom and I tried to pull my pants up because I knew seeing him that something bad... No, that’s not right. The rest room wasn’t the first time, me pulling my shirt down was the first time. That’s why I don’t remember. The day he walked in on me in the restroom I knew him being there was bad because it had happened before. I knew I didn’t want him in there because I knew what he would do.

He was standing by the window, trying to pull the curtain closed. Tonya was at the window with her friend and they were looking in. I can’t quite make out the expression on Tonya’s face. I can only see her face from the nose up. She is straining to look in. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his belt was undone and his zipper and pants button was undone. It’s right there, what I’m not wanting to remember. They are holding it. They don’t want me to know. Maybe it belongs to someone who only has that memory left.

I can’t remember. I can’t remember what came before that.