I was 7 years old. My primary school has a large field, on one side of the field lies the school.
On the furthest side of the field, there was a low picket fence, and behind this, a small residential area. One beautiful summer day, the unsuspecting children played in the grass, threw dirt at each other and would later be running for their lives.
A man in one of the far houses, jumped from the third floor window and the oldest children gathered round the fence in worry and some making bets about whether he walked away from the fall uninjured. I was sitting on a bench, quite far from the events, watching. I couldn't see past the crowd but I heard screaming. The man had gotten up seemingly unharmed and kicked down the fence, he walked onto the field holding a large knife, I couldn't hear anything but some say he was yelling something. This man began chasing a girl around the field and there was little to be done, I ran and hid.
I hid under a bench until I heard the police arrive and the screaming stop.
You can decide whether to believe me or not. But I won't ever forget that. I always try and convince myself nothing interesting happens in this village, and clearly, that's not the case.
