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The Chronicles of Tah-Lah: Cast Down but Not Destroyed
The Chronicles of Tah-Lah: Cast Down but Not Destroyed
The Chronicles of Tah-Lah: Cast Down but Not Destroyed
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The Chronicles of Tah-Lah: Cast Down but Not Destroyed

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Tah-lah Williams, born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, takes you on a journey with her as she experiences life's ups and downs, sharing her different heartbreaks, accomplishments, and realizations of how much God has been with her, helping her through it all. Losses, betrayals, tragedies, and disappointment. Will Tah-lah be able to get through it all with her mind still intact, or will she crumble beneath the foot of the enemy?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 8, 2021
ISBN9781638602927
The Chronicles of Tah-Lah: Cast Down but Not Destroyed

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    Book preview

    The Chronicles of Tah-Lah - Tamara Irimagha

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    The Chronicles of Tah-Lah

    Cast Down but Not Destroyed

    Tamara Irimagha

    Copyright © 2021 Tamara Irimagha

    All rights reserved

    First Edition

    Fulton Books, Inc.

    Meadville, PA

    Published by Fulton Books 2021

    Some language in parts of this book may come across as cold and offensive. Please take into consideration that this is a memoir narrative being told according to the real struggles that the author was experiencing at that moment in time. This is done to help the reader understand in-depth the heaviness of her struggle and what a stark difference God made in her life and mind. In advance, please accept this sincere apology for any offensive remarks as it was necessary to include them. Fictitious names are used to protect the identity and privacy of individuals in the story.

    ISBN 978-1-63860-291-0 (paperback)

    ISBN 978-1-63860-292-7 (digital)

    Printed in the United States of America

    Table of Contents

    The Early Years

    A Celebration

    Change Cometh

    A Lost Girl

    Ticking Time Bomb

    Run for the Hills

    A Time to Grieve

    A Whole New World

    A Series of Unexplainable Events

    Unfailing Love

    Liar, Liar

    Sinking Deep

    Lost and Drifting

    The Escape

    New Hope

    Red Flags

    New Beginnings

    To my Heavenly Father and Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ

    Thank you for all you have done and are doing in my life

    But you are the ones chosen by God, chosen for the high calling of priestly work, chosen to be a holy people, God’s instruments to do his work and speak out for him, to tell others of the night-and-day difference he made for you—from nothing to something, from rejected to accepted.

    —1 Peter 2:9–10

    Chapter 1

    The Early Years

    When people look back on their lives, some have great memories with little drama, others have very eventful lives, and some have horrible memories and experiences. Mine would be one that was eventful mixed with great yet sad memories. My earliest memories of my childhood fall somewhere around the age of four or five years old playing in the streets of Brooklyn, New York, usually with the older kid in the neighborhood, which typically led to trouble. I remember once having to be rushed to the hospital because one of the girls I was with got upset with me and bit me in the chest. I hated getting shots, and this called for one. I also remember once being told by my mother to stay in the house and wait for her to come back, and becoming so overwhelmed with fear, I ran out into the hallways screaming and crying looking for her. A neighbor took me in and stayed with me until she returned. I’m not sure how my mom knew where to find me, but I’m guessing a note was left on my door for her.

    Boy, was she ticked off that I didn’t listen, but how could I explain to her how afraid I was? There were so many incidents that went on at that young age that put me in danger. Unfortunately, my mom was a drug addict. The consequence of being around the wrong crowd. This led to me being exposed to that life, seeing my mom and dad (not biological dad) use and buy drugs. Once my mom took me to a friend’s house where they gathered to use some drugs, and I was taking a nap on the couch there when one of the men there tried to molest me. The experience was so disturbing that my mind has suppressed the details of it. My mom and others walked in to find him on me, and an altercation broke out. My mom later told my uncles, which caused an uproar. Being a child, I wasn’t aware of what happened afterward. I just knew everyone was so upset, and so was I. Until this day, I can still remember that man’s face and his name. Unfortunately, after some time of this lifestyle that my parents were living, I started to say things to them, making them aware that I knew full well what they were doing and that drugs weren’t good for them. They didn’t know how to respond to me.

    During this time, my mother became pregnant; I was going to have a baby brother. I suggested she name him after a boy—Micah; I had a crush on in my first-grade class. She agreed. That day, as we talked, she told me that my biological father worked at a school nearby and asked if I wanted to meet him. I said yes, but when we got there, I could tell even at that age he wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn’t so much hurt as I was angry. Even at that young age, I had a spark, a sense of pride. I didn’t need him, and I didn’t need anybody who didn’t want me. Shortly sometime after that, I had some officials in my school asking me questions about my home life, which led to me ending up living with my great-grandmother and great-aunt. I missed my mom and dad. I didn’t get to experience her pregnancy with my baby brother. The experience living with my great-aunt was a miserable one. I could do nothing right; her children did everything right, and when they didn’t, I was blamed.

    My great-grandmother was old and didn’t really stand up to her daughter. I had to hear her speak about my mother in the worst ways. I didn’t agree with my mom’s lifestyle either, but I still loved her. It made me angry. One day, one of my cousins knocked over a plant in the closet. My aunt went on a rampage to find out who did it; they denied doing it, which to her meant surely that I did it, no matter what I said. So she came after me. I cried and screamed that it wasn’t me, and she proceeded to choke me on the bed. My great-grandmother begged her to stop, or she’d kill me. Eventually, she stopped and let me go. She said she was through with me, and I had to go. I was sent to a foster home. Thankfully, the woman and her daughter were the sweetest people I had ever met. She wanted to adopt me, and her daughter adored me and wanted nothing more than to have a sister.

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