My cousin Brad loved trains. My cousin Brad was also one of those scary genius kids that learned to read before he learned to use the toilet. Brad had a big train set that he loved more than anything, and my aunt had it out for me.
My mother insisted I play with my cousin Brad. We were the same age, and apparently Brad had trouble making friends. This was a fact Brad didn't seem to mind. He was perfectly happy to read, or write stuff down in his journal, or work on his train set. My aunt and uncle were worried about Brad, and were hoping he could share his hobby with me.
Both Brad and I were against this idea. Nothing good could come from this, what with my clumsy recent growth spurt and Brad's clearly shallow patience for other less smart people.
We go into Brad's room. Inside is this monster of a train set. It looks like its assimilated pieces of other, smaller, weaker train sets. I stand against the wall, making sure not to touch anything. My aunt encourages Brad to show me how it works, and I am content to do nothing. All is okay. Until my aunt insists I have a turn "at the controls".
I am not sure what happened after this. I was so terrified that everything just sort of went blank. The next thing I remember is Brad choking me with a chord while screaming.
I wasn't able to be in the same room as Brad for a few years after that. He still won't look at me. Apparently his train set has continued to grow over the years. (Not that I'm allowed near it)
“Its assimilated pieces of other, smaller, weaker train sets.”