In life every moment will become a memory, and every memory will be remembered if it is significant enough, like a myth, that is passed down from generation to generation.

Like many, I have my own story to tell. This may not be the story of the century which you tell your children at night before they go to bed, or the next New York’s best seller, but it is one that will be remembered by me as one of my childhood memories. Throughout my childhood I was raised in a farm on the outer parts of the city. At about the age of six I remember the conflicts and horrible fights I would undergo every day, there were times in my life when I felt like I was being beaten and abused. Some would call it animal cruelty, but as for me I used to call it “revonimals”(Revenge of the Animals).

Growing up with an older brother had its ups and downs there were even times when I considered killing him, Either because of sheer jealousy or just heavy horseplay, however I love my brother and would never do such a thing. Jaime had a rather vivid imagination and sought out strange ways to stimulate them. One of my first conflicts was with chicko our pet duck. In one occasion jaime wanted to see chicko fly. I remember this moment like it was just yesterday; I remember racing up the stairs, and the rail we used to slide down every day; I remember the smell of our old house and where exactly every room was, even though it’s been over ten years since I have seen the place. When my brother decided he wanted to see chicko fly he hid the ten pound duck the best he possibly could, with dads big Carrheart jacket, from mom who still is overprotective of us till this day. But somehow we managed to slip past the kitchen where my mom was and up to the porch without chicko making too much noise.  Once there, my brother thought of a magnificent idea which led me to go back downstairs and catch chicko in case he couldn’t fly, because the last thing two young children would ever want to do is hurt an innocent animal. As I got myself into position down below I held my arms up as a sign to Jaime indicating I was ready. He began to count to three” one… two.. three.. flyyy!!!”

As he was counting I was confident of the duck, and believed he would fly away, and be free so I let my hands down by the count of two. Little did I know that that ten pound duck would come straight down at my face and knocked me out cold for a few seconds. As I laid there unconscious Jaime raced down and told my mom what had happened and as I woke up in my mother’s worried arms and of course my older brother crying but not because he is worried but of laughter. I was in shock and did not know what happened all I remember was waiting to see chicko fly. As I was being pampered by my mom I turn from her and my brother to see chicko in the water swimming in the pool calm as ever. Later that evening my brother told me what happened and till this day I will never forget his facial expression when I woke up to see him in tears.