Rachel Speaks

Rachel’s story continues…

Part Two

Maybe If I Could’ve She Would’ve

by Rachel Young

“I’m fired up and tired of the way that things have been.. Don’t you tell me what you think I can be. I’m the one at the sail, I’m the master of my sea.” – Imagine Dragons

My life in so many ways has been blessed and changed even after the experiences I had as a teenager and young adult. I wish I could give my younger self a hug and dry her tears and let her know her life would not be like that forever. Maybe if I could’ve she would’ve made some better decisions. I don’t normally like to think that way because if that had happened I would never have become the person I am today.

After being told by the youth “pastor” that I was free to leave, I was given a ride back to my house by the church secretary (at least I think that’s what she was). I ran inside and immediately went to my mom’s room and laid down on her bed. She was still at work and my brother and sister were still at “school”. I was still in shock from what had just happened. I was overcome with so many different emotions. I went from happy as could be knowing that I would never have to step foot in that “school” again, to extremely fearful due to all the horror stories I had heard about what happened to “rebellious” teens that left.

I remember one of the scariest stories I was told was about a young teen boy who decided to leave; his mom had his braces ripped out of his head by his orthodontist. I’m not exactly sure how true that story was, but being a 15-year-old who had braces at the time, I started to worry what the “leadership” was going to tell my mom to do to me. I broke down and sobbed for the rest of the afternoon as I awaited my mom’s return from work.

When she got home it all became a blur. I could tell she was disappointed, but I can’t remember the words we exchanged. The next thing I knew I was driving with her back to the “church” because they had requested a meeting with us. When I showed up at the “church” everyone seemed to feel sorry for me because according to them I made a huge mistake. We were escorted into a conference room by “J” where “K”, “aunt S”, and “uncle G” were waiting. I didn’t know what they were going to say or do next, but my internal instinct was to run.

Unfortunately, I didn’t run like I wanted and instead sat there like a mopey little puppy. I remember “S” fake crying (she was always good at pretending like she cared, even though she has a heart of ice). “G” was trying to act like my father figure for the millionth time in my life (that guy couldn’t take a hint that I never wanted or saw him as a father; I saw him as someone to never trust). The conversation they all had around me is a blur now. The only part I remember is when my mom chimed in and asked them all if I could go and attend church services at another church. “J” replied to her “What’s the point”.

The week after the meeting I was enrolled at Potomac Falls High School. I was nervous as could be; The last time I had been in the public-school system was when I was in fourth grade. I remember walking through the halls with my mom and my guidance

counselor, noting that the halls smelled just like a pool. The place was huge compared to the private school I had gone to in Fairfax.

The four years I spent at Potomac Falls seemed to fly by. I made so many life-long friends there. I also made plenty of mistakes while I was there as well; teenagers tend to be good at doing those type of things. The people I kept close to me from my time in high school became my surrogate family; they never were as cruel as my own blood related one.

Calvary always seemed to be a demon lurking in the shadows while I was a teenager/ young adult. I would think I was ahead of the curve and then when I least expected it, they would come down on me like a ton of bricks.

Unlike other kids who “left” CT, I was allowed to live at home afterwards. A few months before I was supposed to graduate high school, “leadership” came down on my mom about how I was leaven in the home and unless I decided to come back to the church once I graduated, they would make her life miserable. Just a week after I graduated in 2009, those people did just that.

My mom told me if I didn’t want to commit my life fully to “god” and “church”, I would need to be out of the house by the following Saturday. I left on a Wednesday while she was at church. I love to believe I had no regrets, however the struggle to help save her and my brother from that “church” continued for almost an entire decade.

To be continued.

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