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.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
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.
Monday, November 9, 2009
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.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
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.
Monday, October 26, 2009
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.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
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
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