I was born as a caul baby and my family expected me to die. That is the main reason they did not claim nor give me a name until three winters after my birth. They originally named me William Armstrong, but my older brother called me Doodle because I crawled backwards eccentrically.
After I learned to crawl I learned to speak. My brother decided to teach me how to walk and on my sixth birthday I should the family I could walk. Everybody was proud including me.
My brother was really happy with the progress I made when standing and walking, so he decided to make a program to teach me how to swim, fight, and run. We would go down to Old Woman Swamp and train and if I fell I would have to start over.
While training, I fell in the mud and had to start back over. Brother was running with me as well. I tried to keep up , but he kept going faster and faster. I was scared and tired, so I sat underneath the red nightshade wth my head in my arms. I layed there and died.
My brother finally came back and found me. He was astounded and did not believ at first that I was dead. He shook me unconditionally, so that I'd wake, but no such thing worked.
My brother laid his body against mine and cried for an extremely long time.