Then she started laying the guilt trip on me. It was because of my sister and me that my dad was not on Jehovah's side. We would have to be good from now on or else dad would die at Armeggeddon and it would be all our fault. And if Jehovah was merciful enough to allow us to survive into the "new system" without our father, we would have to live with the fact that we killed our father for the rest of eternity.

Heavy load to handle for a five year old wasn't it?

I did my best to be perfect after awhile. I was a perfectionist. I read only JW books and put aside my favorite children stories. I liked the music of the time, but felt guilty the whole time I enjoyed it. I liked to dance to the music and felt guilty about it, so I kept it to myself. I was the perfect little witness.

My mom was also the perfect witness. In defiance of my father, she became a "pioneer". In other words, she committed herself to do over 60 hours of door to door work each month. On weekends, we went to a sister's house who had kids. My dad thought we were just there to play and watch television. My mom didn't drive, so my dad would drop us off there and her friend was to bring us back home later. This friend also took us to meetings in the middle of the week as well. My dad only dropped us off at the "Kingdom Hall" on Sundays and a sister would bring us back home eight hours later.

My dad wasn't stupid. He looked the other way when the sister would pick us up for meetings during the week. He even felt guilty about restricting them. However, he was totally against my sister and I being dragged door to door in "field service". He asked me once, point blank, "So, how was it today when you went door to door?" My mom told us earlier not to tell dad we were going door to door. I never told him, he just asked me. I assumed he was told by mom. I said, "It went fine. We were only out for five hours, but had to cut it short."

He left the room. I could hear my parents yelling at each other. My dad then stormed out of the house and drove off. My mom yelled at me. She didn't even ask for my side of the story. My dad left and would probably never come back. If he died in Armeggeddon, it was going to be my fault. She wished I were never born. Then she refused to speak to me. Even after dad came back late at night, my mom would not speak to me for about a week. Things were never the same between us.

In the past, school was a good place to be. I had two close "worldly" friends. I was determined to win them over and had studies with them at recess. We were a group since kindergarten. The boy and I were assumed to be boyfriend/girlfriend. We always stuck together. Then I was 6 and about to enter second grade. This was what I assumed a test of loyalty from Jehovah.