It was a miracle that I survived the fall. Naked as the day I was born. The paramedics had no idea how I got on top of the rooftop of the garage. But they didn't question what had happened. They only took me to the hospital. From that day forward it was called "locked in".
It would have been better if I had died. The shame my parents felt. My brother sent to a juvenile detention center. My cousin sent to prison for child neglect and endangerment. Not that any of this mattered to me. I was stuck inside a prison myself, inside my head. The mind of a six year old child cannot process the evil that men do. But I wasn't an idiot. I just wouldn't have a chance to move my body.
That in itself may be worse than prison. I will never know for myself. Nor will I know why my older brother and our cousin felt the need to torture a child, abuse a little boy, then force him to take off his clothes and climb outside an open window, naked and crying. The humiliation remains too much to bear within my mind, cluttered with thoughts, ideas, feelings, sorrow and resentment. Who would choose to kill a child's soul? Who is so sadistic to have zero degree of humanity in their hearts?
I never saw my family again as I became a ward of the state. In the care of licensed nurses and other medical professionals, my body grew but remained atrophied.
I would never be like other children. Swing across monkey bars, climb up a rope, run and chase after friends on the playground.
Sports were out of the question but I watched and learned about body mechanics and kinesiology as an adult. I studied anatomy, physiology, pathology and became a doctor who could never practice. I studied statistics and probability and made millions betting on sports teams and players. I could predict their actions, especially in football.
Technology advanced enough for me to communicate my ideas with like-minded people. Not other unfortunates like myself but people with ideas who thought clearly.
Sometimes I wondered what happened to my family but I was too busy to really care.
Because I could control my eyes and my breathing, I read up on Zen Buddhism. It came naturally to me being still. I could not even scratch my nose, let alone sneeze.
Being quadriplegic was no delight. But I learned how to make the best of a wretched situation and remain positive.
This is my story... read on if you like.
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