As a teenager I went on a Christian camp for troubled youth.
One of the perks of being poor you get included when the Christians are running Street kid camp.
Parts of it I loved, made freinds with a lot of thugs, that comes in handy later in life.
I noticed they used a lot of cult techniques...we would do a 7 hour hike and sing "this Is the day the lord has made" till you forgot your own name.
We did solo in the bush, blind folded left under a corrugated iron sheet with a water bottle a sandwich and Bible.
Long story short the Christians wanted me to work for them, to Stay on as a camp staff member.
This is where it gets freaky.
When my folks came to pick me up, the Christians lead me off into the bush to do the laying on of hands and speaking in tongues, then in their prayer they mentioned my parents as being influenced by Saran.
Anyway they tried to tell my folks I had gone for a walk, but my mum yelled my name so I sprinted and got away.
They came to my house a few days later and tried to lean on my parents.
I was freaked the fk out at that age it kinda messed with me for a long time I stopped trusting people.
Anyway my mum complained to the mayor and that camp was shut down.
Not going to go into any names or churches, partly because it still bothers me.
And I ain't talked about it in the real world since, apart from my folks mentioning it once or twice.