Hello everone who clicked into this message.
Well, my story is pretty much about "shaken faith". To keep this short, my mother died in 1990, leaving behind 5 children. She died a devout Jehovah's Witness, and before she passed she requested that her children grow up in the faith as well. Therefore, my aunt Marilyn Waldron took all 5 of us into her home, and together with her son, Raymond, we became her 6 children. We regularly attended the Kingdom Hall, Sunday's, Tuesday's, and bible study Thursday's at someone's home. I have 2 older sisters and 2 younger brothers. We managed to stay with my aunt for all but 3 years, before she split us all up. I wasn't sure whether the stress of having so many kids in her home got to her, or not having the means to care for all of us due to her support system being cut off(my grandfather and step-grandmother lived downstairs, and owned the house. They did not like having us around). During the time I was attending the meetings, I was young, but I started to see alot of ungodly like acts occuring. My grandfather did not like us at all, he would want to keep us out of his house and away from him. During the whole 3 years living under my aunt's roof, I can't recall not one family outing we had; I can't even recall ever leaving the house at all except to go to meetings, or to the store. My cousin Raymond was older than the rest of us, he would come and go as he pleased. We were not even allowed to go outside in the backyard, the front steps, anywhere. If my sister came home late from school, she would not be allowed in the house. She would be forced to sleep in the hallway over weekend periods, and we would give her plates of food through the door. Same went for me, or my other sister if we were to come home late. We could not watch TV during the week at all, only weekends. During the week if we finished our homework, we had to read a book, or study our watchtower. When we ate dinner in the house, we couldn't get a drink until we were finished eating. We all lived in the same livingroom(her and her son had their own rooms), and we lived inside of a 2 bedroom *attic* apartment. When it was too hot we had to open a window, just sit by the window. When my grandmother from my father's side would write me letters, she would pre-open the letter and read what my grandmother was writing me, sometimes she wouldn't even give me the letter-just tell me that my grandmother didn't want me and dosen't care about me. Something happened between my cousin Raymond and my sister Melinda, she dosen't tell me but she just has alot of hate for him to this day. One day my brother Jason, who used to sleep in the same bed as me, fell very ill. He was throwing up his food every time he ate. He wouldn't communicate, just cry. He was 6 years old, in kindergarten. ONE MONTH LATER, my aunt decides it may be time for him to go to a hospital because his condition is getting worse. That day she calls an elder, brother Leetch, to come and transport Jason to the emergency room. The day he comes to transport him to the emergency room, he dies on the way there. I thought at that point I couldn't live anymore...Was this an incident that could have been prevented if action was taken sooner? It still bothers me to this day, and this happened 9 years ago, March 9, 1993. My little brother, Jason Tereek Clarke. My other brother, Justin Nathaniel Clarke, was just 5 years old, and they were very close. Even at a time when nobody could eat solid food, everyone is numb, there was a wrong feeling, like this isn't supposed to happen this way. Not long after that, my aunt decides she has had enough of my 15 year old sister Melinda, and decides to take her to live in a group home. Me and my sister Melinda grew up together since we were babies, and I wasn't about to allow her to enter a group home by herself. I asked my aunt if I could go with her, and she quickly agreed. We ended up in the same group home together, and since we left, I have heard from my aunt 1 time. And that was the second day I moved in there. I was 13 at the time. Justin was 6. Vanessa, my other sister, was 16. They stayed behind with my aunt, and Melinda and I stopped attending meetings. About 3 months later, my aunt would decide to move to Louisiana with my younger brother, and Vanessa would stay behind with my uncle Godfrey. I found out through staff at the group home that my aunt moved out of state, and I won't be seeing my brother. I felt alone, lost in life at that point.
Well, currently I am out of the group home, living with my sister Vanessa in Brooklyn, NY. I am going to school for music production, and am working part-time as a driver. I am now 22 years old, grown, with alot of goals in life. It has been going on 10 years since me or Melinda last seen my brother Justin, Vanessa maybe about 8 years. Her son Raymond lives up here in Yonkers with a beautiful baby girl, and her mother. I once seen him, even stayed there briefly, and he claims to not ever see or hear from my brother. However, my aunt's brother Beavan just recently committed suicide in his mother's backyard, and Raymond went to his funeral and seen my brother. I called his cellphone in the hopes that he may put Justin on the phone, but he puts my step-grandmother on the phone, who says hello, and informs me that Justin cannot see me until he is 18 because I am a worldly person, and the bible does not permit him to be around his worldly relatives. My cousin Raymond does not attend meetings, and is not a Jehovah's Witness, but he is allowed around my blood brother? What is the difference between us if that truly is the case? I would like to sue my aunt, but I'm wondering if that is actually possible. My mother, Ingrid Pauline Clarke, a sister in the faith, sometimes I wonder if she can actually turn over in her grave if she knows what my aunt has done to us mentally, and spiritually. I would like to see my brother before he turns 18, if possible, because I do not feel that they have the right to put a timeline on when I could see him. By the time he is 18, if he comes to see me, I would tell him everything that has happened, because he was just way too young to realize, and I'm sure that he would like to get to know his real mom, and brothers and sisters. The family I talk to you all about actually still attend meetings in Louisiana, like none of this ever occured. I always said to myself that if I went back to church one day, I couldn't see myself in any other one except the congregation. But people like this, like my Aunt Marilyn Waldron, grandfather Basil Waldron, step-grandmother Doreen Waldron, cause me to develop shaken faith. I want very badly to see my brother, and if the bible does not permit me to see him until he is 18, I can't help but to feel that I am reading the wrong bible. I still have yet to locate my brother, I only know it is somewhere in Louisiana, maybe Zachary, or Baton Rouge. I live in Brooklyn, NY, and my name is Rashawn Clarke. Please respond to this letter, and thank you for reading.