Here we go. I remember alot, about forty or so events, which is probably close to the amount of events a year. While in New Hampshire, my brother would often come and get me to bring him down to his room. I remember one night when nothing did happen falling asleep with my mouth open in a way, almost like I was getting ready to recieve him. I actually remember thinking that, if he came to my room to make me do that thing, I would be ready and it might not hurt as much. I don't know when this was, but there you go, that's how bad it was. There was a time when we owned an R.V. and he went out to sleep in it for the night. My dad was asked it I could join him, and he agreed. I thought it would be cool, my brother and I in the big car. Go figure, he did was he did when we were alone, and this was the first time he came on my bag. I remember the feeling. Warm, wet, slimy. He told me to go get washed up.
I don't know, to this day, why this happened at all. Some nights I lay awake wondering if I had done something to bring this on. I hate him so much, I really do.
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return." Moulin Rouge.