Since I don’t remember much before age 10-ish, I’ll fill you in so you’re not completely lost. I guess this would be like the five minutes before the title where some kid plays me and wins an Oscar.
I was born in 1988 in Missouri but wasn’t feeling it within 6 months. I moved to a town just north of Houston. I was going to include that I was “born a white male” but decided not to because it looks like I’m foreshadowing a sex-change and then people build up this expectation that there’s a Splice-esque twist towards the end but there isn’t. Also, I figured my name being Jack Meadows, seems obvious.
The earliest memory I have is sleeping in the guest bedroom at the front of this old large house out in the woods. It must have been wintertime because I saw a tree outside swaying with no leaves so it looked all spooky. I had a nightmare after that of the tree with crows on it and they all came me with bright red eyes.
Another memory was when I was being a little brat, maybe 3 or 4 years old. I got a toy at Walmart, then started crying because I had buyer’s remorse, if only I had chosen Donatello instead of Bebop, I would have all four of the same toy with different color bandana paint. My mom was fed up with my shit and, while driving, grabbed the toy and pretended to throw it out the window. I wasn’t old enough to understand such sorcery so I just have this memory now of a toy flying out the window and me crying a ridiculous amount. Not only did I learn to be grateful but also that it would suuuuuuccccckkkk to have kids. Sorry if you have kids, nothing against you, but this is about me, as per the title of the work.
Let’s see, what else? Oh, I remember getting stung by bee. This was also when I found out I’m crazy allergic to bee stings. I got stung on my right hand and it swelled up to about triple the size it should’ve been.
One time I got ambushed by cousin Jason and his friend and became target practice for their paintball guns. Jason also “accidentally” hit me with a bat while winding up for a pitch. He was also a douche about the original Nintendo, like he would knock the controller out of my hand so I would die and it would be his turn. What a douche. Spoiler alert, the legend of Jason doesn’t end well. I think he’s on his 3rd felony, 4th divorce, 9th kid, and 5th suicide attempt. He basically sucks at everything.
One time I tried to use the monkey bars right after it rained. My back hit a stump and I laid there in my private school uniform, certain that I was paralyzed but I wasn’t.
One time I was parkouring before that was a thing, in a barnyard setting. I ran perpendicularly towards these two 2”x8” boards that were used to get the lawnmower onto the trailer. When my foot hit the first one, it slipped behind me and flopped onto the second board and lost my wind for the first time.
Another time I fell from my top bunk bed because I was dreaming that Old Yeller was at the side of my bed and I was reaching to pet him.
Oh! My brother and I played football in the house when I was very little and I went to tackle his legs. There was a drawer pulled out partially that exposed the sharp wooden corner. This sliced the top of my brother’s head and he was screaming with blood streaming down his face. It was intense. He ended up getting stiches and now just has about a two-inch scar up there.
Pretty much everything I remember from being a kid involved getting hurt doing stupid shit.
Read previous chapters:
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