Our mother and father always had a habit of going out together once a month or so and leaving us at home. When we were little, they would hire a babysitter to watch us, but after Lori — my big sister, four years older — turned twelve, they decided she was sufficiently mature to take care of me on her own for a few hours.
And that’s when it started. The very first time Lori and I were alone together like that, she asked if I wanted to play a game. Of course I said yes. I looked up to her and would gladly do almost anything she suggested.
So, she led me into our parents’ bedroom, then inside their large walk-in closet. She turned off the light. It was pitch black in there, completely dark. I couldn’t see a thing and I wondered what kind of game we were going to play.
“Now let’s take off our clothes,” said Lori.
“What?”
“Come on, silly. Take off your clothes. Let’s get naked, okay? You’re not scared, are you?”
“No, I’m not scared,” I insisted — although secretly I was kind of frightened by the enveloping darkness. “But why are we doing that?”
“Because, like I said, it’s a game. Come on, take off your clothes.”
I still couldn’t see anything, but I could tell from what I heard that my sister was starting to do just that, so I went along. I was already barefoot, and all I had to do was push down my shorts and my Strawberry Shortcake undies, then pull off my pretty flowered top with the eyelet edging, and I was nude.
“Are you ready?” Lori asked.
“I guess.”
“Are you sure you want to play the game?”
“Yeah, I do, but what game is it?”
“It’s a touching game. We touch each other everywhere. That’s why we’re naked, to make it easy. But it’s secret game, okay? You can’t tell anybody. This is a special game, just for me and you.”