"What did I know? ...

and when did I know it?"  Did I know I lived in mortal fear of my life all my life?  I had no name for it but I knew to steer clear of her, to do everything she commanded.  I knew to NEVER tell on her, to keep my ignorant jet black worthless piece of s*** dumb a** questions and comments to myself.

I knew that at any moment she could and she would swoop down on me like a savage panther, strip me naked, hog-tie me, gag  and beat me to a bloody pulp like she did my brother.  I also knew that she thought that she was perfect, stunningly beautiful and could do no wrong.  I knew that she viewed herself as the perfect Princess born into the wrong world.  A world of dummies and liars, a world where she was always misunderstood and lied on.  A world where people talked too much, "stayed in her bizness".

Did I know how much she hated me, hated us, for intruding on her perfect life?   I knew I watched my grandfather shed silent tears almost everyday.  I would observe him reading his Bible.  Then hot tears would flood his eyes, stream slowly down his chiseled face and lock under his chin.  I know he prayed for her, prayed for us.  I listened to his kind admonitions and heeded.

She never did.  She made it a devious game.  Say good kind things and do the absolute opposite.  Hide your ignorant sick hatred.  Bludgeon, murder, maim and kill while grinning and lying.  Spew your flattery to hide your jealousy.  Creep around with your hoodoo, graveyard dirt and stank eye.

Poor Martha is a woman who has always pretended to be happy.  I don't think she has every been happy a single day in her miserable life.  Could she be ashamed of who she really is?  Something went afoul in her young life.  Smashing a tiny little puppy brought her joy.  It trilled her.  A fantastic feeling she learned to harbor in her heart.

Too smart, too cleaver, too good a liar, Martha's proclivities would not be denied her.  Martha knew that she was brilliant and the entire world was dumb.  All she had to do was play the part.  Play dress up, put on a mask, sweeten her words when she felt like it.  No one would ever know.

Play preacher, loving daughter, loving mother; "these dummies will never  know, never catch on."  You were right Martha.  Perhaps I would have never caught on.  But you MURDERED the wrong man.  You murdered a kind gentle man.   A man like David, a man after GOD's own heart.

True it happened a long time ago.  You knew that we were too terrified of you to say anything, to protest.  I knew but my embedded fear would not let me "know".  I refused to believe it.  I knew that you were cruel, selfish, a pathological liar.  I knew that you were violent and brutal, common and nasty.  I refused to believe that you were common enough, cruel enough to kill your own father.

My brother's return after a twenty-five year estrangement brought some truth.  He brought the pieces of the awful puzzle.  COMMON! is the only word I have for you.  Common and lawless.

You grew too accustomed to doing your dirt and slyly blaming it on others.  I shudder to think of the foul lies you have heaped on me.  I will not bear your burdens or protect your name.  "Get thee behind me Satan!"  If you can't repent, run and hide.  Granddaddy begged you to change, to live right.  You chose awful deceit and EVIL.  Your fake praying and phony license won't get you off.  You are reaping.  "When your desolation comes it will come as a whirlwind!"

No, I didn't know that you hated my grandfather.  I knew that you talked to him like a dog, mistreated him.  I heard your constant screams; "WHEN YOU GON' DIE OLD MAN!?"  I knew you took all of his money.  I watched you practice witchcraft on your relatives, on me.

You thought your cousin *S**** E**** had too much.  She was living too well in *P******, *S*.  She had a loving husband and beautiful children.  They had a beautiful home, a store, a thriving business.  Your heart ached.  You started visiting them too often.  Soon they had nothing and you laughed.

You are a witch and you know it.  Do you really think GOD is going to let you cloak yourself in His robe, get up in His pulpit blasting lies?

Just like granddaddy taught you: "Time changes all things dawthur."  Your time is up.  The wise will hear and heed.  The minions that you successfully destroyed will go down with you.

"Ya' going to Hell dawthur!"

Rest assured every word in that Book is true.  Stay in His WORD children.  Remember; "Apart from Christ you are nothing."

May GOD's Grace, Mercy and Truth engulf you and cloak you in Perfect Peace,
Rachel Gwendolyn Doster (the exceedingly proud granddaughter of a great Patriarch, JEROME WALTERS)