Childhood Memory

I was given a small piece of homework for my Planning and Writing a Novel class, and that was to write up a childhood memory. As such, I thought that this would be the best place to write and post it. Though I must say before I start, that I’m not entirely sure that this ever happened. To clarify, this is a memory of something that I do believe happened, but since what happened is impossible, it must have happened differently in reality.
    When I was about four or five years old, there was somebody I knew, a male about fifteen years older than me, and I didn’t like him at all. I don’t even remember what he’d done wrong, but I certainly didn’t like him. Well, having said that, I don’t even remember disliking him, but I can quite clearly remember a conversation I had where I said that I disliked him and so I’m going by that.
    “Do you want to know who my enemy is?” I asked my Nan.
    “I don’t want to know about enemies!” she replied.
    And that’s all I remember of that conversation. I do have one memory of interacting with him though.
    I was playing with a ball by myself behind the flat that my family used to live in. It was a pretty quiet place and it was mainly used by vans and lorries which would come and make deliveries to the shops beneath the flats. I was by myself at first, but he came after a short while.
    “I bet I can throw that ball higher in the air than you,” he said, and being only a child, I couldn’t resist the challenge.
    I threw the ball up, and it went moderately high and then was pulled back down to the ground by gravity.
    He grabbed the ball and then said “Watch this.”
    He threw it upward and, unlike me, he didn’t seem to be limited to the laws of physics. The ball went up and up while I watched in awe. Before long it had gone so high that it could no longer be seen.
    “Will I ever get it back?” I asked.
    “No,” he said.
    And it turns out he was right. I never did see that ball again.
    Now, I imagine you’ll say ‘Well, of course it must have just been a dream that you mistook for a memory as years went by!’ which is a perfectly valid theory. But on the other hand, I can remember lots of times where I was at school around the same time, where I was trying to throw the ball into the air and get it to never come back. I can see myself mistaking a dream for reality after fifteen years (or however long it’s been) but after such a short period it seems unlikely. Unless, of course, me trying to throw it into the air was all a dream too?
    Also, it’s only now that I’ve come to write this up that I wonder to myself: why did I have a twenty year old enemy when I was five? Where would I even meet a twenty year old at that age? I suppose these are all things that’ll remain mysteries to me, still nice to think about, nonetheless!

(Also, today is Friday so don’t miss today’s Finger Puppet Show)

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