When I was nine, I discovered I had a superpower. Two classmates and I were playing in the playground, probably some horse-themed game, until one of them choked me in an assassin-style throat hold. It was one of those stupid things children do, perhaps copying something she’d seen on TV, not realising how dangerous it was. I simultaneously dropped to my knees, feeling as if I was floating out of my body, in tremendous pain, unable to breathe or speak. She let go just as a black curtain drew across my view of clouds and sky.
It was not my best playtime. I wasn’t able to speak for several minutes. I felt upset, confused, isolated: where were the adults? Who was looking after me?
