am eight years younger than my brother. When we were growing up he would often invite me to fight and play with him, in bed, on weekend mornings.
When I was sixteen I had to leave the family home with mother and we moved into my brothers short term. I recall fighting and laughing one dY, as typical until he floored me. I screamed, laughing until he said ‘let’s see how many hairs you have down there’.
I froze and then fought hysterically. He eventually got off. He didn’t get my pants down. He went halfway upstairs and said ‘come on let’s fight here’ I replied ‘no’.
To this day I hate to think what might have happened.
We have never talked about it.