Those were the good memories that I had, seeing as the rest of my life went downhill on October 4, 1987.
I was six years old, and life in my hometown was a great one. You didn’t have to worry about anything bad happening to you, just as long as you went outside to play during the day and came home after dark.
The memories are all I have, since that summer of 1987.
I still remember the smell of freshly grilled hot dogs, the taste of popsicles, and the sounds of laughter as the kids ran and shouted on the playground. I remember playing with my toys in the sand-pit and the occasional water balloon fight.
Those were my memories, the only memories that I have.
What I don’t have is the ability to recall my name or the names of my parents. I don’t even remember my hometown anymore. I have lost the memories of my entire childhood a long time ago.
Except the memory of the summer of 1987.
Because that was the summer before a terrible thing happened to me.
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