When I was seven, I was around the corner from my house when somebody tried to get them in their car. Mum believes it was my biological father but doesnt know for sure as I never spoke about it til years later.
When I was eight / nine I fell off a slide in the back garden and the arm of the slide broke off too and zigzagged in and out of my leg as I was falling. I had five gaping holes in my legs, down to the bones. Luckily it wasn't higher up.
I almost died a couple of times from asthma attacks.
My DH... when he was three, he was in the backgarden with his older bro. DH was hiding in a big box, BIL decided it needed airholes so stabbed the box a couple of times with garden clippers. DH still has a scar and bald patch on his head from where he got hit, luckily not too deep.
DH used to ride a motorbike he always used to call me when he got home from mine (before we moved in) and one day he phoned earlier than I expected. He'd been hit by a drunken driver (who didnt stop), the car had squashed the side of my DH's leg, trapping him between the car and bike. He was very very lucky, a second earlier or later then the car would have hit the bike wheels and he probably wouldn't have been able to keep control. No broken bones, despite the fact he got hit and then fell off and skidded down the road. V V lucky.