Christmas

My favorite holiday is Christmas. Growing up I use to love seeing Christmas lights,trees, Santa, anything that came with Christmas. When we would go to my aunt's house I would sneak over to her tree to look at the names on the presents just in case my name was on one. Of course it wasn't, but I always hoped. I was never allowed to watch X-mas cartoons or programs, because it was against the J.W. religion. Oh how I begged to watch them knowing my answer would be the same,NO, but I didn't care I had to ask. I can remember asking my mom why we didn't celebrate Christmas, and she would tell me Jesus wasn't born on that day. She would also tell me that J.W's don't see him as a baby, but as a king. Then she would say that we don't have to wait for Christmas to give presents, we can give presents anytime. Those times never came, I cant remember not even one gift coming my way for any occasion. The only thing I hated about X-mas was seeing my class mates come to school with their new everything coat, clothes, shoes, and here I was jealous of them because all I had were my second hand or hand me down coat, clothes, and shoes. I didn't even have a friend that would share her toys with me like all the other girls in my class. I felt alone, I was alone.

My Brother

When my dad would be drinking or was away from home my mom would visit the neighbor lady, and stay there for hours to pass the time away. One night as my mom was visiting I was playing in the front yard when my older brother came over. While he was there he spotted some red ants (the bigs red ants) and followed them back to there ant hill. He then proceeded to do the cruelest thing ever. He threw me down on top of the ants, and held me there. I was screamiong for him to let me go, but he just laughed, and thought it was funny that I was being bitten by the ants. There was so much pain, that my screams probably matched what I was feeling. When my mom finally got to me she was horrified to see me. My little body was covered with ants, there was so many ants on me that she ran me inside the nieghbors house, and put me in the bath tub clothes an all. I was in so much pain that all I could is cry while she poured water on me to get the ants off my body. As I stood there crying I could see my brother laughing he didn't feel any remorse for what he had done to me, and I never got am I'm sorry from him. My brother was not a very nice person, he was into things like hurting animals and playing jokes on people that were only funny to him. This is sad but very true, he was not a good brother,son, or father, and every memory that I have of my brother is a bad one.

Sixth Grade

By the time I got to sixth grade I had learned that I needed to be tough, and not show weakness. At school I had this alter ego where I would cuss as good as any drunken sailor, and was so mean I could spit nails. There was this boy who would call me a Jehovy just to be mean, but he was the wrong person to say anything to me, because he had a red birth mark that covered half his face, but it was taboo say anything about it. I didn't care, and to get back at him for calling me a name I would shout back tomato face, and no ones going to love you with that huge red mark on your face. I also treated our new music teacher very badly. On her first day I was dared to stick a tack on her seat which I accepted. I snuck over to her seat when she wasn't watching, and placed a tack on her chair. By the time I got back to my desk the whole class room knew what was going on, and eagerly awaited for the teacher to sit on her chair. When she finally sat down she popped up so fast that the whole class started laughing including me. She knew it was one of us, but never even acknowledged the incident. This teacher had a lot of class, and dignity. After the tack incident I felt really bad. I wish I could say I turned over a new leaf, but I didn't. Soon after we moved, and I had to go to a new school. This was my chance to start over. I started being me no matter the cost.

My First Memory

You know, I am sure that my uncle sexually abused me prior to my first memory of it. It probably started when I was just a baby. It stands to reason that he would start that early, he was a child predator, and babies can't talk. I guess that doesn't really matter because when I could talk I didn't say anything, I was too scared. That's how pathetic my life was back then. My first memory of the abuse happened one day my uncle came over to see my dad, but I don't remember knowing where he was. He always had a way of knowing when my parents weren't home. That day he asked me to go look out back, not hesitating I went looking for my dad. On my way back he stop me at the back door, and asked me if I wanted some candy I eagerly said yes. He then told me he need a tool, and for me to show him where my dad kept them, once there he would give me some candy. I believed and trusted him, and so I went with him. Once we got to the shed he turned around to look at me I thought he was coming in for a hug, but I was wrong instead of a hug he put his hands down my pants and fondled me. This is where I should run, run for my life, scream, kick, punch something anything to get away, but I did nothing I stood there too scared to move. Once he was finished he acted as if nothing happened, but I knew what he had done was wrong. That day he took my innocence. Every time after that the sexual abuse just got worse, and every time I did nothing. I can only take comfort in the fact that he's still in prison after 23 years. All he is now is a pathetic old man who will die alone.

My Pet Rabbits

Growing up we never had pets of any kind. My dad said that dogs were too dirty, and cats were out of the question. One day to our amazement my dad brought home three rabbits. I can't tell you how excited we were. I can't speak for my siblings, but I just fell in love with them. My dad gave me permission to feed them, and keep there cage clean, needless to say I would spend hours playing, and talking to the rabbits. They brought happiness and joy to my miserable little life. One day while eating dinner my dad asked us kids if we liked what we were eating, of course we all said yes. Right then my dad started laughing as he told us that it was rabbit we were eating. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Could this be true, would my dad really kill the animals I had fallen in love with? He then told us if we didn't believe him go outside and take a look for ourselves. I ran outside, and was horrified when I saw two headless, little animals hanging on our clothes line. They didn't have any fur, so I wasn't sure if they were my rabbits, but once I got to the cage, and it was empty I knew that my dad had killed them. Those rabbits were the closest things to pets I ever had. I don't understand how my dad could do that to us or for that matter laugh about it. I do know this he waited for us to start eating before he told us what it was. I can still picture those poor little rabbits hanging on the clothes line with no heads.

Drawing Contest

In another one of my attempts to make friends I did something shameful. The library at my school was having a drawing contest K-8. Each grade was to have a 1st, 2ND, and 3rd place winner. I was determined to be the fifth grade 1st place winner, but there was one person standing in my way, Laura. She was the most talented girl in the fifth grade, and there was no way I could compete with her. I don't remember what she drew, but I definitely remember what I drew. It was a picture of Sacajawea the Indian girl, it was picture perfect. The only reason it was picture perfect was because I traced almost the whole thing. When finished the drawings were to be turned into the Liberian, and only she would know who they belong too. The kids then went around picking there favorite. Shamelessly I won first place. At first I was so proud of myself, I took the blue ribbon home and showed my parents. They were not impressed, but then again they never were. They were the type of parents that didn't care about grades or important things like that. Oh well it didn't matter, I hadn't earned that blue ribbon anyways. and I felt horrible about it. As horrible as I felt I wasn't going to confess to what I had done, it would have to be one more thing to add to my list of things I was praying for forgiveness for. It was also another thing I would keep to myself til now.

School Friends

I never had school friends that I would do things with, because I was always the odd man out. Being a J.W. we were not allowed to associate with the world(anybody who is not a J.W) unless absolutely necessary, so talking and playing at school was as far as that went. Thing is we couldn't play with J.W kids either,because their parents knew my dad was a drunk, and there was NO WAY they were going to let there kids come over. So in an attempt to make friends I stole a five dollar food stamp from my moms purse. I knew that some of my school mates would go home for lunch, and then stop at circle k to buy candy on their way back to school. I told them they could buy whatever they wanted, when they got back they had big bags of Doritos, Bubble Yum gum, and so much candy it was even funny. Back then five dollars was like a hundred dollars, so there was tons of junk food. How in the world could I go home with so much stuff left over. One, I thought for sure my parents were going to find out there was a five dollar food stamp missing, and for two my parents would ask where I got all this junk food from. So in a panic I started flushing Doritos's down the toilet(why I just didn't throw it all in the trash is beyond me)Did this stunt get me friends? No. I will tell you what it did give me a guilty conscious, and one more thing to add to my list of things I would pray for forgiveness for.

The Big Lie

Growing up, my second oldest sister and I hated each other, and I had my dad to blame for it. Sad thing is, he doesn't even remember causing this hatred, because he was drunk. Not that I would have ever confronted him on it. It happened one night, my little sister and I were playing house in our room innocently. My drunk dad came in and caught me kissing a pillow, when I looked up he was just standing there looking at me. I was so scared I didn't know what to do or what was going to happen to me. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach just waiting for his wrath, but the beating never came he just staggered away from me.
I still didn't know what he was going to do, so I followed him and hid. He walked into the living room where my sister was, and my dad started telling her that he had caught me kissing my younger sister (and not in a sisterly way)and doing things that only big people do. My sister believed the big lie that came out of my dads mouth, and she was disgusted with me. From that day on she hated me, and she treated me with hatred. If I looked at a movie with a lady in it, or a commercial with a lady in it for even a second, she would call me horrible names.
Sometimes I didn't know who to hate more my sister for believing the lie or my dad for telling the lie. I asked myself why didn't he just beat the cramp out of me, that would've hurt for just a couple of hours, but instead what he chose to do hurt me for many years. As an adult I have never confronted my dad because, one he wouldn't remember, and two he would deny it ever happened. I also have never had the guts to tell my sister that what my dad said about me that one night was just a big lie, and that the way she treated me as a little kid was horrible. Today that incident only bothers me when I think of it, thank God I don't think of that one to often.

The Girlfriend

When my brother came home with a girlfriend, it wasn't shocking that she was not a J.W, and she had obviously been raised to speak her mind because that is exactly what she would do around my brother. What she didn't know is that my brother wasn't going to have none of that, nor would my dad. The only difference is, that my brother would smack her on the spot, my dad would wait til he had enough liquid courage to say something about her. That courage came one night that my dad had been drinking all day, and my brother had been getting high all day. She came over to the house and the next thing I know is a fist fight breaks out between my dad and brother.
My older sisters had to break them apart. Next thing I know is my brother is running out of the house, with his girlfriend in tow. They are yelling about who knows what, when all of a sudden he starts coming back in, with his stupid girlfriend right behind him. When my dad saw this he started towards the girlfriend, I don't know what he was about to do and neither did my sisters so they got in the middle of the three of them again thats when my brother took out this long metal stake and cracks my dad over the head twice. My dads head started bleeding profusely from the gashes on his head. My brother took off running and my oldest sister went after him.
I remember screaming you killed my dad, my mom was crying and screaming, I don't know who called the police, but when they got to the house my sister rounded the corner with my brother in some kind of hold and handed him over to the police. My dad was taken to the hospital where it took 72 stitches to close his head up. While they were at the hospital we waited at home where I had to help clean up my dads blood from the walls,floor,and bathroom where my dad ran and hid from my brother. Who knows what happened to my brothers girlfriend after everything happened and I don't care.
Crazy thing about this story is the next day my dad and mom dropped the charges, and bailed my brother out of jail. My brother ended up having a baby with this girl, and she sadly gave the baby up for adoption. To this day I think about that baby, and wonder where she is today. I didn't get to know her, but I still love her.

The Pledge of Allegiance

You know, I can't remember my mom ever taking us kids to our first day of school to explain to our teachers the things us kids couldn't do as J.W's. Instead our mother just told us the things we couldn't do with no explanation as to why, and left it to us kids to explain to our teachers the things that we could not do or participate in because it was against the J.W. religion. So on my first day of third grade I had the meanest teacher ever, and I was to scared to tell my teacher anything, so when it came time to say the Pledge of Allegiance I just stood there like a scared little deer, and I couldn't bring myself to tell her that I was not allowed to say it. I starting to panic because I knew that I should be outside while it was being said, but instead I was standing in the class room with all the other kids (I didn't even know the words) I just stood there with my heart beating out of my chest. When all of a sudden the mean teacher comes up to me grabs my hand and puts it over my heart. I was scared to death, and the only thing I could think to do was to slowly start lowering my hand from my heart til it was over my stomach. It seemed like the pledge went on forever. I can't remember how I got out saying the pledge from that day on. I do know that this was just one more thing I couldn't tell my parents, because I feared that I would get hit for saying the Pledge(in my case just standing there). I also thought that with my history I would never see paradise, because I didn't have faith in god to help me tell the teacher that I was not supposed to say the Pledge. This would also be another thing I would be praying for forgiveness for, for many years.

Blood Transfusions

Blood transfusions are against the J.W. religion. My whole childhood I would pray that I wouldn't get some kind of horrible illness or get in some kind of horrible accident, because I knew that if I needed any blood my parents would show there faith by telling the doctors to do what they could without blood, and if I died from lack of blood then so be it. It was a known fact that if any J.W. would allow a B.T with themselves or with family members it meant that they doubted their faith that one day there loved ones would be resurrected into paradise and live forever, and they would parish for their lack of faith. One day The neighbor across the street called me over to pick up something she had made for our family to eat, and while I was there she had me taste some. It didn't look familiar, I knew it was some kind of meat, but I didn't know what kind. After I ate some she told me it was blood sausage, or some kind of meat made with blood. Not thinking anything of it I took the plate home to my parents, and told them what it was. My mom screamed, and took the plate away from me, and burnt the meat in the oven. When that was done they buried the burnt meat in the back yard, for some reason not known to me. They asked me if I had ate any of the meat, and I told them yes. Both my parents were very upset, they showed me in the bible that it was against gods law to eat blood, and anyone doing this would die.(Hence the whole blood transfusion law for J.W's) I knew right then that I had forfeited my right to live forever in paradise, and that god was going to punish me for breaking his law, even thou I was about seven or eight and didn't know any better. I can remember crying, and feeling very scared, so much so that I was looking to my parents to console me, and tell me that god would forgive me, but they never did come to me to make me feel better. I prayed for gods forgiveness until I was an adult for eating that blood meat. I finally forgave myself for what I had done, and I quit praying for forgiveness for the meat I had eaten.

A Secret No More

You know the day it came out that my uncle was sexually abusing me didn't go quite the way I thought it would go. It happened one Saturday, my dad had taken us kids to my aunts house to help her move. Everything was going great til my uncle got there. I immediately knew he would corner me somehow, I just didn't know how at the time. I just carried on trying not to be so scared after all everyone was there. Let me tell you, a child predator will go to any lengths to get to a child, and that's what I was a child of about nine or ten years old.
I was helping by taking boxes of stuff to the truck, and my uncle was taking the boxes and stacking them on the truck, so when he took my box he grab one end of the box with one hand and copped a fill of what ever tiny little breast I had with the other hand as he grabbed the other end of the box. I immediately stiffened up and my hole demeanor changed, so much so that my older sister could see that something was wrong. She asked me what was wrong, and I finally broke down and told her what my uncle had done to me, she really didn't say anything to me, but I clearly remember this. When it was time to take a load of stuff to my aunts new house my uncle said to me why don't you ride next to me in the back of the truck it will be fun, just then my sister said shes going to ride in front with my dad. I was so relieved, and so happy that I didn't have to sit with him because I knew what would of happened to me had I sat in the back, the only sad thing about that and even a greater crime was that he got my younger sister to sit in the back with him.
I know my sister told my dad what happened to me because that night after dinner my dad asked me to show him how exactly my uncle had grabbed me. I had to do to my dad what my uncle had done to me. Then my dad told me he asked my uncle if he had done that, and of course he said absolutely not, that IF he touched me it was a complete accident, and that he never meant to touch me in any way. Nothing happened to my uncle, there was no big fight, my dad didn't go off on him, he didn't hit him, he didn't get banned from our house,he didn't even tell him to stay away from his girls.
What did happen is that my dad assured me that he didn't mean to touch me, and that he was really sorry for the accidental touching. I don't care what he said I know what he did, because I knew what he had been doing to me all along, and trust me it was much more than a touch to my tiny breast. Although he never sexually abused me again after that day, the physical damage was over I now had to contend to my mental damage that he had also done to me. Trust me he didn't stop because he saw the evil in his ways, he stopped because he was found out. To this day I have told no one what my uncle did to me all those years.

The Uncle

What can can I say, I hate my uncle! I can't write about what he did to me yet, but I thought I was the only one going through those horrors, but I wasn't. I think my oldest sister had been abused by him also. There was this one day that my parents weren't home, and my uncle came over, and I remember my oldest sister taking the three of us girls, and telling us to crawl under the kitchen table, and to not answer the door no matter what. We could see him looking into the window, and hear him saying girls it's your uncle answer the door. I was so scared, because I knew what would happen if we did open the door for him, he would make some sort of excuse to get one of us girls by ourselves. I also thought we would get hit by my dad because we were home and didn't answer the door for my uncle. I know what I say sounds crazy, but back in the day we had to respect our elders. On top of all that I thought I would get in trouble for the things my uncle did to me, because I knew the things done to me were wrong, and I didn't have the courage to tell someone, and I didn't tell someone because I thought I would get hit, what a vicious circle. All the while it was just four scared little girls huddling under the kitchen table until he left.

Shoes

On one of are many terror trip, we went to Mexico. I don't remember how long are trip was, but what I do remember is that I some how lost my shoes. For two days I hid the fact that I didn't have my shoes because of course I knew what was at the end waiting for me. When I finally told my parents that my shoes were somewhere in Mexico. I got my beating alright, and on top of that my dad took me to Payless Shoe Store and he pick out my new pair of shoes. I think he picked out the ugliest pair of shoes he could find, he knew I would hate wearing them, and on top of that I would be made fun of at school for these pair of shoes. Oh how I hated them. Funny I don't remember any of my shoes that I had as a kid except for those. To this day I think some one in Mexico stole my shoes, we were far from rich but that's not how the Mexican people saw us.

Haircut

I remember one night being woken up by my mom, who told me that the neighbors had gotten in a fight, and that their kids were going to spend the night. The next thing I know I'm scooting over to share my bed with the neighbor girls. The next morning when they woke up they went home. They left us one thing, LICE! I knew what this meant my hair was going to get chopped off, and chopped off not by my mom, but by my dad. He took me outside took my shirt off in front of the neighbors boys, and proceeded to cut my hair like a boy with electric hair clippers. I was mortified, I just covered myself with my hands while my dad gave me a boy haircut. After the haircut they poured kerosene over my hair and wrapped it in a plastic bag, until they felt all the lice were dead. The burning sensation on my scalp was unbearable, but I didn't dare cry or complain, why add a whipping on top of public humiliation, and scalp burning. I waited til I was alone before I cried, I knew I would get laughed at for my hair cut at school, but what else was new I was already the outcast. I would just have to put on my school personality, more about that later. To this day I hate seeing little girls with short hair cuts

Lost

You know I often see movies of kids getting on there bikes, and not coming home until dinner time, like the movie The Sand Lot. Oh how I wish we could have had a life like that.This is so sad, but the only person that had a bike was my brother, because like I said before my dad never got bikes for us girls, and my brother would never let us ride his bike. One day for some crazy reason he let me ride his bike. What in the world did I think I was doing? I had NEVER been to the corner much less around the block, but never the less I got on the bike and started to peddle. I didn't know what around the block look like, so I started getting scared because I thought I would never find my house again. Seriously I had a pit in my stomach, and I wanted to stop and ask for help, but I knew I would get hit for sure especially since my dad didn't know I was gone. Not knowing what to do I just kept peddling, and I finally got a glimpse of my house, I was so happy to be home again. I never rode my brothers bike again. The only other time I ever went around the block again was when I was old enough to go back to the old neighborhood, and it was then that I went around the block, but this time it was in a car not a bike.

Terror Rides

Every summer my dad would take the family to an assembly in another state. An assembly is when J.W's from many other states go for a 5 day conference. and they last all day from about 9:00 am to 5:00 pm in the afternoon with a lunch break in the middle. These were torture for us little kids because we also had to sit through them without falling asleep. Now my dad knew that he could not drink and get drunk while surrounded by so many J'W's, but my dads urge to drink was so strong that he would drink and drive with all of us in the car on our way to the assembly. Us kids knowing this was a bad thing, would not dare say a word against it to my dad for fear of getting hit. So our terror ride would begin, and not finish til we got to our destination, if we got there. Now on these trips none of us kids would fall asleep because we would watch out for others cars and warn my dad if we had to, and we also made sure he didn't fall asleep behind the wheel. What I don't understand is why my mother wouldn't make my dad pull over so that she could drive, that way us kids could just rest and not be scared that we were going to crash. To this day I often wonder how my dad never ended up in killing anyone.

Always Scared

As I got older I started to understanding the words the J.W's would speak from the podium, and you would think I would be enlightened. That was never the case, so now not only did I walk on egg shells,and felt that a bomb would explode at any moment. Now any time there was a storm I really thought Armageddon was coming, anytime I heard of storm, tornado, or earthquake anywhere in the world, my parent would say were in the last days, so when I would hear that I thought Armageddon was coming. When a plane was flying over us I thought for sure it was a plane coming to bomb us, and that would be the start of Armageddon. Trust me there were so many things out there to scare the crap out of me, and knowing that I had to deal with it on my own even thou I was just a child sucked so badly. I would have never bothered my parents with my scared thoughts, because I just knew it would get me in trouble, and it would cause my dad to hit me. I thought of killing myself just so the next time I woke up it would be in paradise, because the J.W's don't believe you will go to heaven unless your part of the 144,000, and I knew I wasn't one of them. The idea of suicide was quickly shut down when my mother told that when people commit suicide they will never be in paradise. As far as I knew I was destined to be a J.W. my whole life and always being told we had to fear god. As they explained it to me fear him not in a bad way, but as a child should fear disappointing there father. Most time I would just nod my head in agreement, knowing in my heart that I didn't understand, and not knowing if I ever would.

Egg Shells

My whole life I walked on egg shells, and lived with a time bomb in the house never knowing when it was going to blow up. We couldn't get away from it by sleeping over at friends or relatives houses, because we weren't allowed to sleep over ANYWHERE. For that matter I didn't have friends other than my school mates, but that's as far as that went. Sober or drunk I stayed out of my dads way, and I never brought any undo attention to myself because that's what my dad would hone in on. If was your day to get it, well god only help you then, because my mom wouldn't. Anything would set my dad off. Not cleaning our room right, not wearing shoes, arguing with our siblings, saying I hate you, stupid, dumb, you guys, or any curse words. Not getting up from bed when told to the first time, sleeping at meetings, and being any other place other than our home. Those were things that I knew for sure would get me a beating, it's not including any other thing that my dad felt warranted a beating. Those kind of things had me walking on egg shells

Never knowing when the time bomb was going to go off. Was when my dad finally honed in on one of us kids. His beating were merciless, and all us kids could do was scream and cry begging my dad to stop. Having my brother be sober and getting in a fist fight with my dad, Oh my god that was the scariest, because I thought forsure someone would get killed. The only times I wasn't as scared is when my brother would be in jail. This is so sad, but I would feel relief when that happened.

Hero

I always wished that that my brother would be the kind of brother that would watch over me. Treat me like the brothers on the Brady Bunch or Partridge Family treated thier sisters. Instead I got a brother that started sniffing paint at a very young age,and was in and out of jail his whole life. Until the day he died. I was an adult when he died, and this might sound awful, but a relief came over me when we found out that he was dead. With him always high, and my dad drunk it made for a very scary scene. My dad always had to show how much stronger he was than my brother by arm wrestling, this almost always turned into very violent fist fights that my brother surly would have won had it not been for my older sister's coming to my dad defense. They would have knocked down drag out fights with my brother just to keep him away from my dad. So instead of my brother protecting the family, it was my sisters. Days like these became the norm.

This is weird, because my brother got everything from my dad, name brand clothes, t.v's, bikes, and cars. I can't tell you how many times his bike got so called stolen, but it didn't matter my dad would replace it, and when he was old enough to drive, same thing with cars. Stolen or crashed they would get replaced. When it came to us girls I can't remember ever having a bike, or toys, or for that matter a car when we got older that was bought for us.

Door to Door

Now I know that there isn't anyone out there that hasn't been woken up by some J.W's knocking on your door early in the morning. I hated having to wake up so early to get dress, to go door to door trying to sell magazines. I was so little, and all I wanted to do was watch Saturday morning cartoons. There would never be those kinds of Saturdays for us kids. Plus we always went door to door around our neighborhood. I was always so embarrassed, because I knew come Monday I would be made fun of for being a Jehovy as the kids would call it. It was bad enough that all J.W kids had to stand outside the classroom for the Pledge of Allegiance, and on top of that we could never participate in any birthday or holiday parties that were celebrated at school, and trust me there was always some kind of celebration going on. So off to the library we would go, to read while all the other kids were having fun. Amongst the other things we couldn't do at school was participate in sports, because in the eyes of the J.W's competition was a bad thing. I often wondered, why I just couldn't be a normal kid.

Rated R Movies

To make up to the family for drinking my dad would usually take the family to a double feature at the drive in, and if that night happened to be in the middle of a school week then so be it. My dad didn't care of the effects of going to bed after midnight was having on us kids, and my mom for sure wasn't about to tell my dad, no the kids need there rest. So off to the movies we went, and back then there was no rating for Mexican movies, and again our well being was not taken into consideration. So as children, and I am talking about ages of 4yrs old and up sat through movies that had sex, nudity, violence, and foul language. Not once were we ever told not to look, and the words the children should not be watching this movie lets go were NEVER mentioned. I lived in world where the kids never came first.

Violent Encounters

My brother did drugs as long as I can remember. So you mix my drugged up brother with my very drunk father and you have a very volatile situation. There was this one night that my dad didn't go to a meeting because he was too drunk to go. When we got home there was blood every where, we just followed the blood trail and found my dad bleeding from his head. My dad said that my brother wanted money for drugs, and my dad wouldn't give him any, so he took a big rock and smashed my dads head. He needed over fifty stitches to get head sewn back together. Nothing happened to my brother (nothing ever happened police wise). After everything that my brother did to the family or to my dad it seems that my dad always forgave him. This wouldn't be the last time my dad would end up going to the hospital, because of my brother. This also wouldn't be the last time I would have to clean up my dads blood off the floor.

Meeting Night

Well like I said before going to church or kingdom hall as the J.W's would call it was a big thing for my parents. As a kid I hated those meeting nights, 3 days a week 2 hours per meeting. That's not including the time you had to put in walking door to door trying to sell magazines to people. If you didn't go door to door then your were an inactive J.W. and god forbid that happen. Being just a kid all I ever heard was just a bunch of mumbo jumbo, and I would get sleepy. If my mom caught me sleeping she would pinch me to wake me up, but if my dad caught me sleeping he would hit me with the belt, and not when we got home either, he would wake me up and walk me outside the J.W. building take off his belt and hit the crap out of me. I would be mortified, because I knew people could hear me screaming and crying. When I would see some other kid sleeping I thought they were so lucky, because there parents wouldn't take them outside to get hit.

Drinking Binge

My dad would drink every day, but he would get falling down drunk every other day. There was this one time where my dad got drunk one night, and failed to fall asleep so his drinking went into the next day. My mom who never shows any kind of emotion took us kids to the store that day, and we were gone for a couple of hours. As we rounded the corner on our way home we could see my dad in the middle of street with a big chain his was trying to hit any car that drove by. My mom was going to turn into the drive when my dad started coming at the car with such rage that us kids just started screaming telling my mom to move before he got to us. She moved the car a little to late he started to beat the crap out of the hood with the chain. She finally peeled away from him, I remember being so scared, and thinking that he wanted to kill us for being gone. I can also remember begging my mom for us not to go home. After a couple more hours of being gone, we started our way back home again not knowing what to expect when we rounded the corner thank god he wasn't out there. Us kids stayed in the car while my mom checked out the house. My dad had finally fallen asleep, who knows how many cars he terrorized that day. He just lucky no one called the cops, but living in a close knit neighborhood I'm not surprised that they weren't called. I'm sure we were felt sorry for living with the neighborhood drunk and all.

Holidays

I can remember that Christmas was my favorite holiday. The J.W's didn't celebrate any holidays, but that didn't stop me from wishing that we would. When we would go to meetings I can remember seeing houses decorated, and I always told myself that if I had my own home I would decorate all of it inside and out. Well you would think that if we didn't get new clothes and toys on that day, that we would get them through out the year, not so. My whole childhood I was never bought a new toy, and the only new clothes we got was 3 shirts and pants right before school, after that it was second hand.

I never understood the reasons behind why we didn't celebrate any holidays. I do remember that my dad would take us to my aunts house every Thanksgiving, but I think it was because he liked turkey. In our home we never had any kind of holiday dinner. Oh how I wanted to celebrate holidays go trick or treating like my friends from school, or get an Easter basket, or get a tree and be in the Christmas play, but those things would never happen to me as a child. I hated going back to school after a holiday, just seeing all my school friends with their new stuff always made me sad.

Memories

Every person has memories of there childhood. I do to,but most of all my memories would be enough to scare you, or so out there that you would ask yourself my god did this really happen to her. I assure you that all my memories that I will blog about are true. I will also try and write about my good memories, but trust me there isn't that many. I will change the names of my family, friends, and relatives, so that I can write without anyone knowing who exactly is writing. The memories I will blog about are not in any kind of order, I will write them as they come to me.
I was born into a very religious family,but that did not stop my father from getting falling down drunk almost every night, and to top it off he was a mean drunk. The only times he didn't drink were meeting nights(a night that we had to go to church).My mother a very good woman stood by his side not for love,but because in the J.W religion the man was the head of the house hold, and divorce was forbidden. Unless someone committed adultery and even then you had to talk to the elders of the church to see if it was okay divorce. Elders are ordinary men that make the decision for the congregation on everything and anything. Basically anything you feel is wrong, and you have confessed or someone has told on you. Once they have come to know your sin the three men(the elders) pray over the matter then let you know what your punishment will be, because god has spoken to them through prayer. Never the less I thought being a J.W. was hard, and I wished my family could have been any religion other than J.W's