I was four years old when I was *****.
I wore a pink jumper to my
first police investigation.
A skinny woman with a short
dark pixie cut showed me how to
make a paper airplane in a
room with a large mirror. You know,
the kind that the police have to
look in at the people in the
room without the people in the
room seeing them. After a while
I got used to police rooms, and
doctors’ rooms, and therapists’ rooms.
I was used to the same questions.
I never remembered though. I
didn’t have the answers that they
wanted. I didn’t remember
anything. All we had was the doctor’s proof
that it happened. I knew nothing.
We never found out who did it.
I’ll never know.