Another time I believe Deb, my adoptive sister, tried to off me, I remember I was descending the stairs to the basement, and I saw down below, Deb's bare beautifully tanned right shoulder, and her long luscious brown hair. She had her back to me and was standing in the doorway to where dad's work table and my little play room was, so that I could only see her shoulder and half of her back. I figured she might be reading one of her Nancy Drew murder mysteries.
I continue on down the stairs, and suddenly I can see nothing, because something hard has hit me between the eyes with great force. I forget exactly what Deb said, but it was something to the effect of her not having seen me. It turned out, she'd struck me with a wooden baseball bat. It took some minutes before I could see again.
At the time, I was too naive to suspect she would have done it on purpose, or maybe I was too young to be able to contemplate such a horrific idea, but in hindsight, I am certain she waylaid me with that bat hidden from my view, in the hope that she'd bash my nose into my skull and kill me.
Decades later, I confronted her about her attempts to kill me, and about this particular attempt, she claimed she'd been practicing with the bat. I say, lie, in light of the fact that she lied about yet another attempt, which was to drown me. Her claim is that she had thought I had been drowning, and she then tried to save me.
I remember it like it just happened moments ago. There is no way she was trying to save me. Her big smile above the water as she held me down was only there on her face because she thought she had it in the bag and I was going to die and she'd have our parents to herself once again, like she did until she turned four and I showed up at two weeks old, taking attention from her.
The only reason I didn't drown was that I began finally, after humoring her until my lungs couldn't take anymore, to dig my nails into her ankles. Her smile fell instantly as she let go of me. She must have known from her murder mystery books that there'd be incriminating evidence under my nails and on her ankles, if she went through with her blissful intention.