Personal Narrative: A Dominant Christian Family

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I can say without a doubt that being stranded sucks, I never have been but, being abandoned sucks too, and wouldn’t you know it being helpless does too. That’s kind of what it’s like to be an atheist in a dominant Christian family. When I was young, six or eight, I don’t exactly remember the date, that’s the first day I realized there is something wrong with my family.

The world was large back then, I hardly realized how tiny that yard was, forever burned into my memory. My grandfather and my grandmother were both their sitting at the tiny table outside, my uncle and my aunt, Renee and Ruby. My cousins, her sons Nehemiah and Nicky where playing tag and red light green light, racing around, then there was cake, then presents, one of them I got was one I wanted a lot, it was a squirt gun, as big as me, or bigger. Filling it up was easy, but made the gun rather heavy hulking it around was tiring, eventually I learned to pick a spot and fire
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This fake idea of love, this ignoring of real actual problems in lieu of glass like cohesion. This does not fit my idea of family. Sure I still say hello, I put on my fake smile, and my mask and lie to them at thanksgiving, at Christmas, or any other holiday family get together. But it’s all a lie I don’t want anything to do with them. Of course that’s not the only reason and if I were to tell you the other reasons, it’s simply not one incident in my life; we would be here all day, from drug problems, to financial fraud hypocrisy. The list of incidents is simply endless all leading to the same problem a fake glass like love easily shattered at a moment’s notice when others are not watching. I wish them the best despite it all, but I will stay on my island, I will enjoy my view, sip on my coconut drink, and lounge in the hot sun along the sands. I watch them pass by sometimes and wave as they still circle those faithful
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