My father Leandrew Williams died when I was 13 years old. He was shot 3 times in the head and afterwards burned. I found it hard to forgive the men that murdered him and myself. Being bullied, getting into numerous fist fights all because I didn’t know how to handle what I was going through mentally. Because I chose to dwell on all the pain, guilt, and pity I acted out in a way that showed just how broken I was at the time. Every other week was different teacher calling about my same disrespectful behavior. I was young and felt left out so I wanted to hang around the popular kids, which I did. I thought they cared about me but they were only gossiping about me behind my back, encouraging me to do bad things and had me fight people for them when they were the ones starting drama. I was not true to myself and too timid to even speak my mind, In fact, I was a follower and I was the one getting in the most trouble. My mom was starting to worry …show more content…
I had a strong feeling that I needed to protect him which was weird at the time. I sensed that he was in danger if he was by himself that’s why I asked my mother if he was going to be walking home alone, but he got picked up. I felt like well since prayer changes things maybe if I was strong in my faith and was praying over him then none of that would have happened. He needed a hero that day he was murdered but no one was there for him physically or spiritually. That summer brought on even more inflicted pain and hurt caused mainly by my older sister and cousins. My spirit felt like it was drained from its life and an empty vast hole was all that was left. "Why me?" I'd ask myself almost every day, every day until the day I picked up a bible and said to myself "Why not?" I didn’t think that I had anything else to lose. That simple choice to build that relationship with Jesus Christ changed the course of things that I could never have