After smoking I went back upstairs, and stared at the ceiling until I thought it was late enough to call my girlfriend.  Being unable to sleep the entire night was not a normal thing for me, in fact before tonight it had never happened like this — without a wink.  I wanted to tell her what had happened the night before, ask her what she thought of it, see if maybe it was something she part of a conversation between my parents, who had just woken, “do you think he will sign the waiver?” my mother asked.  

Much, much later, after investigating the technology involved, I would become aware that the force responsible for the mind controlled opera I was unwittingly thrust in to the center of was able to falsify conversations, to force you to overhear things that were not really there.  This is done via stimulation of the auditory cortex, and when you fully understand that the effects you are noticing can only be accomplished by stimulating action potentials, it should be obvious that this capability is also within the realm of reason.  Because of reality shifting though, it’s not obvious, in fact, you can be kept completely oblivious to further possibilities and uses of the technology.

I began whirling inside.. did they know about it too?  I was still convinced it was a prank, but at this point that others around me had been deceived into thinking it was some sort of Fear Factor like television show.   I began getting angry, and also nervous about the possibility of more camera’s being hidden in this house, just like the other one.  Maybe my girlfriend was right, maybe it was the CIA. 

I walked out of the house to call her, as I often do.  It’s a habit I guess, but I enjoy talking on my cell phone as I’m walking.  She didn’t answer, and I was really not thrilled with being in the area.  I was also worried that the same thing might be happening to her.. the thought of escaping the area entered my mind, and I decided to get rent a room at the Extended Stay America in Palm Beach, thinking I might be outside the grip of whatever nefarious group was tricking everyone around me.  After doing this, I decided to walk to a near by shopping center, in order to call a cab there.  

This might seem a bit strange, but both of us had had some very odd experiences in cabs to date, one refused to open the door  for us, and would not take us where we wanted to go, demanding that we stop at a specific shopping center.  Another had made some under-the-breath remarks, and had a strange interface on his fare meter.  I was a computer person, and I always take notice of POS interfaces, this one was not graphical, but a text interface that had inverted colors.  He was pressing buttons on another terminal, one that was outside of my view, and it made loud chimes… it was very attention grabbing, and in hindsight it was an obvious alert.  This interface would later today, and throughout the ordeal, play a large role in several sub-threads of the psychological attack.

I began walking briskly, upset that I had not been able to get her on the phone.  I wanted to get there so I could tell her I had a safer place for us to stay.  Walking on the street instead of the sidewalk, I saw two older women walking towards me, on the other side of the street.  They were on the side walk, and one of them seemed to be arguing with the other, her arms flailing in her oratory.  I could not hear what was being said until they got a little closer, when the alert came:  “Just let him go.”  This time the alert was accompanied by something else, a transmitted impression of the situation — the knowledge that they were talking about me.  It wasn’t accompanied by anxiety or classical paranoia, just the tacit knowing that whatever it was they were talking about, it was revolving an argument about me leaving the house.  I slowed down a little, glanced at them and then glanced away, and continued on.  We passed each other, and I was about a block to their south when something else happened.

A few weeks earlier, my girlfriend and I had experienced something strange.  We were standing outside our apartment, deciding whether or not we were going to leave to visit a friend.  She wanted to go really badly, and because of what had been happening during the prior weeks, I had become weary of her plans when they changed abruptly and without reason.  During our conversation, something began hitting us from what appeared to be the roofs of the apartments around us.  It left lacerations on our skin, with a white residue, and for the next hour or two it seemed as if we had both been drugged.  

As I was walking past the two women, something hit the bottom of my pants.  I was instantly filled with feeling that this was the same weapon that had been used on the two of us weeks earlier.  I swirled around, pulling my phone from my pocket as I had the previous time.  From one of the houses I was walking past, I heard one thing “uh-oh.”
Feverishly, I started navigating the Android interface to the camcorder application.  I started recording, and circled the area with my phone, hoping to catch a glimpse of who or what was doing this to me.  After about 20 seconds of recording, standing in the middle of a suburban street at the early hours of the morning, I stopped the recording.  Attempting to email it to myself, in order to save it “on the record” in Google’s cloud, the icons on the screen began shaking, an effect which was not normal for Android.  Afterwords, the phone did a Looney-Tunes like transition to black, another effect which was not normal for the software on the phone.  I quickly turned the screen back on and navigated to the gallery, the video I had just taken was gone.

Clever people.  At this point I knew they must have put a virus on my phone, one that enabled themdelete the video.  The overtness of the special effects struck a chord in me though, certainly they did not need special effects in order to delete a movie, they could have easily just removed it from the flash memory with no notice.  Why would they alert me to their presence in my phone with visual cues?

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