The Dead Series: That Time the Neighbour Tried to Kill Me
generic viagra usa canada best prices how to write up a divorce see click eyewitness report essay topics online phamacy viagra essay conclusion strategies sildenafil softgel capsules viagra cvs caremark offer writing services algebra 1 homework helper top online resume writing services go to site http://admissions.iuhs.edu/?page_id=anafranil-capsules https://nyusternldp.blogs.stern.nyu.edu/how-to-write-a-personal-essay-for-scholarships/ click here cialis knockoffs http://teacherswithoutborders.org/teach/essay-admissionv/21/ boston college essay help click light switch plate viagra source link viagra over the counter uae writing tumblr http://www.danhostel.org/papers/good-political-topics-for-research-paper/11/ cialis and levitra compare go http://snowdropfoundation.org/papers/how-to-purchase-a-research-paper-online/12/ how do i send an email on my ipad air critique research paper example https://teleroo.com/pharm/viagra-forum-topix/67/ compare and contrast essay about cats and dogs by Kristine Laco
I thought it would be apropos on this of all Hallows’ Eve to tell you my first brush with death in my Dead Series.
I recently confessed to my less-than-cool childhood, I wanted to make another confession–one I only told my father about recently. My neighbour tried to kill me when I was about 9.
Picture it, we were in Thunder Bay in the dead of summer. All my friends were at sleep-away camp or their cottage and I was playing in the street by myself probably collecting rocks or counting rocks or crying. That is when I saw him. Let’s call him John. He was approaching me with his friend, let’s call him John-boy. They were one and two years older than me respectively and they were walking down our cul-de-sac toward me. John and John-boy did not like me. I knew that. They would throw things at me. Spit at me. Laugh at me.
But I am a pleaser and, apparently, as gullible as Forrest Gump.
John and John-boy noticed I was alone and took the opportunity to ask me to John’s house to play. He had a swing set in the backyard so the answer was ‘hell yes!’. Actually, it was probably ‘Me? Really?! Sure!!’. Note to self–add idiot to my LinkedIn profile.
We walked down the street together after not informing anyone that I was about to embark on enemy territory. Just as we approached the house, they wanted to play hide and seek. I was to be blindfolded and they were going to put me in the ”it” spot. Sure!! My God folks, how have I made it through life this far?
As they were forcibly guiding me, blindfolded, into the backyard, one of them (I suspect it was one of the Johns) started pushing my head down. That is when I did the move that would save my life. It is the same move I used when we were playing pin the tail on the donkey at every birthday party because winning was a must. I did a squint so hard it moved the blindfold and I was able to see my fate.
The Johns had strung up a butcher knife under a card table at the ‘it’ spot pointing straight down to where they were guiding me. I managed to shrug away and run back to my house before they caught me. Seriously, I can’t remember ever being supervised as a kid and clearly the Johns were on their own too.
What did I learn from this little fright night you wonder?
- Kristine, you must have learned to trust people only after they have proven themselves? Nope.
- Surely you learned to not go into the unknown with people who are not your friends? Nopedy Nope.
- Last chance. Please tell me that you learned to never be blindfolded by anyone who wasn’t carrying a little blue box and roses? Ha! Nope.
A lifetime of death cheating began that day and I learned that I am just going to have to take each situation as it comes. Shrug it off and run is aways a good policy (unless I have broken a foot or something).
Should I thank the Johns for their contribution to the Dead Series? Sure. But they don’t have full internet access in jail*, so it might fall on deaf ears.
*I don’t know if he is still in jail but John did spend lots of time in Juvie and John-Boy made it to big-boy jail for trafficking at one point. We had some real life bad asses in our bucolic neighbourhood.