Part 2, here
Part 3, here
And the saga continues. . .
The pastor’s anger at my dad escalated. Soon rumors that my sister was sleeping with a neighbor boy began to run rampant. My mom was “mental”. My brother was fair game to beat up on. The adults that were there to teach were told to turn their backs and to not stop the beatings. All the while we were crying out to God, “We are doing everything right! We are following the formulas, confronting our accusers! Where is our vengeance? Why have You done nothing to help us!” My sister ended up with spasmic colon, was literally skin and bones (although the gossip was that she was pregnant). My brother was growing angry. And somewhere in this it started to sink in for me why I was so hated.
Eventually, my parents realized this wasn’t going to stop. We weren’t going to be avenged. Our house was put on the market. We were going home to our family.
Can you believe that house sold NINE times? We were so excited the first time it sold. We would be home for Christmas. I quit my dream job that I loved working with animals . And then the buyers backed out. We went home for Christmas, but we had to come back. And then the house sold again!. . . and the buyers backed out. . . again. When we finally got to the week before ninth closing and the buyers hadn’t backed out yet, we had to scurry to pack, all the while wondering if this was really it.
It was. We were free. . . right?
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