“My parents worked full time so I stayed with a neighbor after school until they got home. My neighbor had two daughters: 6 and 10 at the time. The 6-year-old was my best friend and we played in her front yard mostly because her mother hated noise in the house.
One day it was raining so we were playing upstairs. I guess we were too loud, because the mother had the girl go out back and pull a switch from a bush.
I came into the kitchen to my friend bent over a chair, getting wailed on with a branch—bloody marks down her back and legs. Our parents never hit us as kids, so I freaked. I went back upstairs and called 911, as you’re told to do in an emergency when you’re 7.
I told the operator what was happening and he sent a squad car out. Child services visited the house regularly after that.
I was never allowed over to play again, and my parents were pissed about having to dip into savings for an after-school babysitter. 20 years later, I’m really proud of myself for trying to stop a violent attack on a six year old.”
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