I scrambled.  I was frightened to the bone, knowing that a cellular blocker was another sure sign that not only were there planned intruders, but also that they knew what they were doing.  My computer downstairs, and my WiFi router were on a UPS; in the hopes that the criminals did not know about that, I pulled out my cellphone and opened a SIP client application.  This was something I used for my work, through ringcentral.com, and because WiFi and cellular phones operate on different frequencies, the jammer that was being used allowed me to log in to my work voice over IP line.  I called a friend of mine, someone I’d known for a very long time, and asked him to come pick us up, he was a vet, and I told him that I thought someone “professional” was attempting to hurt me and Mary.  He said he’d be right over, and we waited half down the stairs so we could see out our front window.  I calmed down a little during this time, as it appeared that the assailants were aware that their airborne drug assault had failed, I was sure they could see me creeping out the top corner of the window.  As we walked to the car, Mary stepped on my shoe several times, it seemed intentional.  The third or fourth time she did it, my shoe came off my heal, and I turned to look at her… she mouthed with a grin… “sorry.”

This is one of the events that has stuck clearly in my memory throughout this ordeal.  Similar to my searches on the internet for the technology and corruption responsible for gang-stalking, my search related to this was clearly directed.  It wasn’t that significant of a thing to have merited the half hour dedicated to it a few days later, but it brought me directly to the Holy Bible.

And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.  Genesis 3:15 

When I read it, the words spoke to me.  I knew it was meant to explain why she did what she did, and I also realized, that like much of the gang-stalking street theater, it was meant to convey a message to me.  The idea of Satan being involved in what was happening had occurred, along with demons, evil spirits, and aliens.  I put them out of my mind.  I had to remain grounded, and that is what I did.   Remain grounded had been a repeated phrase in my mind during this time, and while I recognized the possibilities, I was almost ashamed that I had previously given so much credence to the possibility of the preternatural being involved.

We saw headlights through the large window in our living room, it was very late.  I crept down further to see that it was my friends pickup truck, and we walked towards the door.  I stopped in front of it and told Mary that I would go out first, and she should follow directly behind me.  I opened the door, and walked a few steps outside, instantly feeling relieved.  We made it in to the truck, and my friend asked where we were going.  At that instant, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cab, sitting in the lot, parked so it had a clear view of our front door.  Its lights turned on and it drove off, almost instantly.
The initial spike of fear that came when I saw it dissipated quickly, as now we would not be followed.  I asked to be dropped off at my parents, only a few miles away, and we said very little for the rest of the ride.  We entered my parents house, went directly to my room, and I let out a final sigh of relief before it happened.
Mary was sitting on my bed, her bare legs touching the ground, leaning back slightly.  I stood near the door, and in my inner voice, the thoughts in my mind, I hope we make it back to Charleston, I can’t take much more of this.

“I hope we make it back to Charleston, I can’t take much more of this.”  Mary repeated, out loud.  Numerous times over the past weeks, she had intimated that the mafia related organization responsible for our plight had the ability to read thoughts.  

Thinking back on it, it had been proven to me many times, but never in such an overt manner — I had always dismissed it as trickery and deception.  Now, with proof beyond a reasonable doubt, I was filled with joy… the fact that I was witnessing something supernatural, something I never thought to be possible made me ecstatic..  further reflection, and much more experience with mind control in the coming years would yield the truth to me, that my emotional response was scripted — directed by someone else — just as the words I was thinking during this time were.

That’s the coolest thing ever.  Again, she repeated, “That’s the coolest thing ever.”
How are you doing it?  Repeated again.

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