Creepy is having a brother two years older who has the devil in him. Worse is the fact that he hated me because I had the bad fortune to be born on his birthday. I was six and he was ten when he first tried to kill me by scaring me to death.
First he tied me to a go-cart and then sent me flying down a steep hill. At the bottom of this steep hill was a major cross street with continues high traffic. Luckily there was a deep curve just before you started down the last section of hill and into traffic. Better yet was the fact that the go-cart with me still tied on, crashed into the deep curve turning the go-cart over. I started to scream and an older lady came out of her house and untied me. I had a bleeding cut on my head, road rash from my ankles to the top of my shoulders also shredding my shorts and tee shirt. It took a while for my red bruised to turn black and yellow, before my mother finally asked what had happened to me. Her answer was, “Well at least you didn’t get hit by a car.
About a month later he held me down over the mouth of a twenty foot deep dry well. While he held me down he made me watch him put a big snake into the dark pit. Then he pushed me in and put a piece of metal over the hole so I had no light at all. I screamed loudly for about fifteen minutes thinking that snake was going to crawl up my leg and bite me. I think he finally got scared that someone would hear me screaming and he took the metal off the hole and put a rope down for me to hold onto while he pulled me out. I had injured my back and had two large, bleeding cuts in by backside where I must have hit a couple of sharp rocks on the way down. Both my hands were bleeding from where I had tried to climb back up the rock-edged prison. I was still screaming and brushing my hands all over me to make sure the snake had not come up with me. My brother, his name was Rick told me to”shut up and warned me that if I told on him he would do something even worse to me.” I never told. But to this day I have a phobia of snakes and claustrophobia of small places. He did many more rotten things to me like loosening my bike seat and when I went to ride it the seat and I both fell off and I landed on my face and broke both my front teeth. He couldn’t even walk by me without giving me a good punch. He always warned me that if I told it would be much worse for me. I never told, but I should have. All of this and more was his punishment to me for having the nerve to be born on his birthday.
This was more than creepy. It was scary and painful. I still bear the psychological scars from my childhood. I only wish I had a picture to share with you. But if you imagine some of the horror shows where children were victims, then you will get your own visual of the horror that was my childhood.
I have written a lot of horror stories as I had a treasure trove of them available from real life. I developed my Brand as a direct result of my creepy childhood: Red-eyed Horror in a B. A. Cole Novel.
Thanks for taking the time to read my post. Have any of you had a CREEPY sibling like mine? I would love to hear about it.
B. A. Cole