When I was 11, my folks had me go through the questions with the elders. I was told that I needed to get baptised, or else find a new place to live. As we were living in a strange city where we knew no one, and we'd cut ties with all our relatives, I figured I had noplace else to go, no one who'd take me in. So, I got dunked two days after I turned twelve. They drove me to an assembly in another state, rather than wait a couple of weeks until our own assembly was held. I'm not sure why they decided it had to be done right away, but it was all very strange. We arrived just before intermission, I got baptised, and we left as soon as I got dressed. As we scuttled out to the parking lot, my soaking wet hair got my dress all wet, and as I didn't have a coat, I froze my ass off all the way home.
The funny thing is, I now know that pretty much any one of my relatives would have rescued me, if I'd only called them. Think of how different my life might have turned out if my grandmother had raised me! I mean, I would have been raised Catholic, but I would have had a normal home...