Age three, location California. Potty trained, used bathroom routinely, and Auntie accidentally closed bedroom door.
I could not reach door handle. I wet myself! The word trauma does not explain holy hell Auntie went through that night. A full fledged panic attack, I did not want to be touched, held, or consoled.
On the floor screaming, “No, spanking!” Auntie did not understand how I became sheer panic in under sixty seconds. My eyes: tawny with medium tones of green, and shades of gold agreeable shade of hazel.
My iris's turned black within sixty seconds, unusual strength, endurance, and relentless. My body did not exhaust. Eventually Auntie picked me up, bathed, dressed for bed. Auntie had a frightened child who did not trust. When Auntie put me to bed did I begin to calm.