Death at Gunpoint

He was in my life….and at the pull of a trigger, he was gone….I have been doing a lot of reflection lately on events in my life that have made me the way that I am today. I have done this a lot since writing my autobiography. A particular life event that is painful to share but has come up a lot lately in conversations is the story of my brother. Most who know me know that I was adopted. my biological family has been in my life the whole tie in and out of the background. My name was changed to try to protect me from my past but it didn’t quite help. my biological father and my only fully biological brother Brian would come visit me throughout my childhod. Brian would stay weekends with us and go to church with us when my adopted dad would let him. There came a time when Brian got older and because of the lifestyle of my biological father he was into some bad things and my adopted father I was living with didn’t want him coming around as much. Brian would start to visit me when my dad went to work and late at night. He was my big brother, the only sibling I had from both my biological mother and biological father. he was what I clung to in the time of confusion of being with a foster family. on my 13th birthday before I blew the candles out Brian walked through the back door of my adopted fathers house, I was soo excited that he was there my adopted father took him to the garage to talk to him, so i waited to blow the candles out till he returned….he never came back. I threw my cake and all my presents on the floor and i locked myself in my room. I have hated birthday cakes since then. My adopted father told him not to come back again until he turned his life around. Brian was 19 at the time. He had dropped out of high school gotten into the biker lifestyle and made some bad life choices. from that point on I didn’t see Brian again that year. From what I heard from biological family members brian enrolled in NA and got off drugs, he got his GED he got away from the the rough biker lifestyle and he started to turn his life around to be able to see “lisa” again (my name was melissa and he would call me lisa) I found this all after what I ma about to write about.

It was a July afternoon …one month away from my 14th birthday..and I was at a step family BBQ. I was told to get in the vehicle and that we had somewhere to go, I didn’t know where we were going or where my adopted and step parents were trying to take me. We pulled up to a parking lot with hundreds of motorcycles. I didn’t understand why we were in detroit at some funeral home. they told me to walk inside and didn’t tell me why. I walked through the funeral home doors and saw my biological father standing there. he hugged me and didn’t say much. he walked me to the casket and I looked down and saw my brother Brian lying there. I screamed and jumped backwards. The bikers grabbed me and brought me to the ground. I was freaking out and in a panic state. I didn’t know what to think or what to do, I didn’t believe it. I was in shock. once I calmed down to the point where I could go back to the casket and look at my brother my biological father told me that they were in Detroit and Brian was robbed, and shot in the head while sitting right next to my father. I was still in sock and I didn’t believe it, it was only 11 months since I last saw him. The family then told me about how Brian turned his life around because he wanted my adopted father to allow him back in my life. that day was one of the most traumatic experiences I had. I resented and hated my adopted and step family for doing this to me and allowing me to find out in such a way. still to this day I cant think about t without tears in my eyes. He was my only biological brother, he was the only one who would ever love me fully and look after me as his little sister, and he was take from me. it isn’t fair and I don’t understand why. I cant answer those questions and yet i don’t feel I can blame God for it because I cant see the bigger picture. I had a lot off issues through my teenage years with anger and rebellion after this and I was a troubled child, but nobody ever knew why, I would have to say that this played a part in my struggles, and it still burdens me today.

….you never know a person until you hear there story…never judge a book by its cover…everybody has a story…each life has a purpose.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s