My entry into the sexual world began in San Diego. At five years old, I knew more about sex than any five year old should know.

My kindergarten was across the alley from the house we lived in. If my parents had been watching, they could have seen me at all times.

That school was one of the open types of schools, much like others that would play a part in my sexual life. All of the hallways are on the outside with doors opening into the classrooms. Everything takes place outside except class time.

The closest people to my brother and I were two boys who were a little bit older. I think one was ten and one was eight. They lived behind us in another rundown home.

These two boys were more aggressive, more rambunctious, and more worldly than my brother and I. They had been around the proverbial block.

One day, they decided I would be the latest conquest. My brother was off doing his own thing. I have no idea where my parents were – or for that matter, where anyone else was.

The school was quiet that day. It must have been a weekend or the summer. I remember it being cloudy.

I remember the cold concrete below my body. I remember how it felt against my skin. I remember the posts around us that supported the overhead hallway ceiling.

I remember hands around my arms, holding me down.

I remember a bigger boy above me, pinning the rest of my body down.

I remember my dress up around my waist and my panties down around my ankles.

I remember penetration.

That’s all I remember.