Monday, 2 November 2015

A true story- Part 3: The Invisible war (the first chapter of part three of my book)

It is the 30th April 2004, I am on the run from MI6, I've been infected with a deadly bacterial infection, I need to get help, I have my plane ticket to get out of the country, I need to get to the airport. I'm going to try get my hypnosis out of the country, I know my life is on the line right now. The last words I write in ‘my story' before I leave for America are 'Am scared there going to get me sectioned before I can get help. If all else fails I’ll go to the CIA and make a deal, I know they haven’t told them. I am getting desperate. I am scared.'...


A story of far away lands and broken spells

I pack my notebook that goes everywhere with me, I pack my poem notepad and a few other bits and bobs. I don't need much where I'm going. I take what's important. I get what little money I have changed into American dollars, I get less than two hundred dollars, not much for when I get there but I have to go and now. MI6 really are out for me, they have been spiking me with nerve toxins to brain damage me since the Thirozine overdose failed to take me out three months ago. I'm in a state, it's hard to function properly. I phone my taxi, it soon arrives. I take my bag and get in, I start my journey to America. I am driven from my hometown Bridlington to Manchester airport, MI6 also start their journey tailing me. I got my travel insurance yesterday, or as good as it gets; I went round posting copies of a draft of 'my story' from door to door at some random addresses in my town, plenty of strangers are currently reading the story of the birth of my hypnosis. I am in hope killing me would cause too much noise now, it would be obvious MI6 did it. I am in hope this move will keep me alive. My taxi gets me to the airport. I wait to take my flight, it goes through France then on to America. I am soon on the plane. I sit on the plane waiting for take off and I am told by MI6 they aren't following me on the flight. I know what that would mean, it would mean my bug would go offline when I got into the air, I know if this happens I have a complete full frontal lobotomy; I basically die. I only survived my thorozine lobotomy because of my bug, because of my hypnosis. 

I sense two MI6 agents online as the plane taxis and gets ready to take off. Are they onboard or at the terminal though? I can't tell. The plane accelerates down the runway, it takes off, we are in the air. My bug works for a few miles so I am soon about to find out if they are on the plane or not, seconds pass. I breathe. Sensing them remains strong, they are on the plane with me. 

I get to see the clouds from above for the first time in my life now, they look kind of pretty. I constantly think away as I do and chat to my shrinks on my first ever flight. We eventually arrive in France, we land. It is a short wait until our flight to America, I walk through the terminal with the other passengers to our plane, I take my next flight. Luke is online for this flight, I can sense him and chat with him on our journey over the Atlantic, it's a good few hours flight until we touch down in America, eight I think. I suggest it would be cool doing a gen of the plane breaking into pieces around us, Luke gens this for his colleague, he say's 'brace yourself', all of a sudden he see's the plane break into pieces around him, then he is in open skies, he jumps and grips his seat, now fully aware of how high up he is. I find myself wishing I was seeing this gen properly and not just in my imagination. I chat away with Luke for the rest of the journey. I can't sleep on my flight. Finally we are to touch down in America. We land, the plane taxis to the terminal. This is it, I've got to America now, this is my chance.

It is now May 1st 2004. I have arrived at JFK airport in New York City, I get off my flight. Mr. Thompson comes online now, they have used a few shrinks for my run out of the country it seems. I get to the gates inside the terminal with all the immigration officers, I should ask them what help I can get, hopefully to find the right people to help someone like me. I talk to the immigration officer, I say I'm a political asylum seeker from Great Britain and request help from the American government. In response I am soon taken away to an empty security office, there are two officers there. I explain about me fleeing MI6 and about my situation. The officers seem nice, they seem to understand, they believe me, they even let me go by myself for a cigarette in the toilets which I appreciate, it was a long flight. I stand on the toilet and blow the smoke into the air vent like I was told to. They tell me I'll get to see an immigration judge in a couple of days upon my return.

After some time two other officers come along, they are here to take me somewhere, the first two officers say 'go easy on him' to the new ones. I am now put in ankle and wrist shackles and am marched to a van. This isn't what I was expecting, this isn't good. It seems my VISA/rights have been taken away from me, I'm ment to be garunteed free travel in America as a British citizen, this is very wrong. After a short uncomfortable ride in the back of a van through JFK airport I am taken to some kind of processing building, they take me into a room. There are plenty of other people in this room sat on the lines of seats, there is a big desk facing us at the front of the room where an immigration officer sits. I get a seat in the middle of the room, I spend the next twelve hours or more on this uncomfortable seat. We get a burger for dinner. I get hassle from my shrinks as per usual. I get taken away to yet another room with officers eventually. This office is smaller with a few guards and some other asylum seekers. I spend some time in this third office. I get taken away to another van again after some time, this time they won't let me bring my bag, I get worried, it has my notebook in which is irreplaceable and my information for my asylum claim, I plead with them but it's no use. My notebook...I am taken away without it. I am now taken for a bumpy half an hour ride in the back of this uncomfortable van, I don't know where I'm being taken. I am getting tired by now.

I get taken into what I think will be an immigration Center, it's a big building, I see that much. I get processed by a guard. I ask him 'is there is much racial diversity in this place'? He actually grunts at me, I kind of laugh at this, he's not one for conversation then. I am taken through a door, then around a corner, I glance metal prison bars down the corridor, I turn and in front of me is this big black guy with plats in his hair doing cleaning, he says to me 'your gonna get messed up in here', I look at him, my face curls up into a big giant grin, what the hell is this, I don't know what else to do, I can't help but grin, it's like something from a bloody movie. The guy now laughs at me and says he was only joking and that I'll be alright. This isn't an immigration center...it's a prison. 

I am in Passaic county prison in New Jersey I am to find out. I am taken to get my prison clothes, they are green, my greens they are refered to as, I also get some slip on shoes they call bobo's. I am taken to a holding cell full of inmates. Some food eventually arrives, it doesn't look appetising, it is served on a brown plastic tray with little compartments for the food. I give mine to another prisoner who seems appreciative of it. It seems there is a bit of racial diversity here. I'm suffering too much from the experiments to chat properly with the other inmates, on top of that I really need some sleep, I keep myself to myself. Eventually I am taken to a cell on the immigration wing, I get a plastic cot on the floor of a cell to sleep in, I'm really tired now, I need to get help from the American government not this, I really am thinking this was a bad idea now. I try to get some sleep, this is when the torture through my bug really starts.

I am soon to find out one of my shrinks isn't himself, something is wrong with him. Something is wrong with Luke...

The story of Luke’s net

I'm stuck in my prison cell. Luke is a mess, he is rash irritable and is lashing out a lot, he is scatty and abusing me which is out of character. I realise now something is wrong with him. I ask him what has happened. He tells me; he tells me he had seen this new neural network and simply mixed it together, he shows me it, he seems down, it is a bright blue brain shaped field, a beta network. He explains all he did was push this net in two different directions, so it looks like there were two of them, that’s all he did and it has really messed him up. He tells me he has spent so much time trying to manipulate this net to fix it. I say to him ‘you should have told me’.

As soon as I find out about this I tell him I can fix him, or I’ll damn well try at least. I can't do much through a bug and not being in a hypnotic state, I'd need to go to the other world, a deep hypnotic state to fix him. I don't really see any other options, well, apart from one, I think about it...I tell him to do the same thing to me, to push this net apart like he did to his net. I must admit I am a little hesitant saying this, I can see what this technique has done to him, he really is a mess but by now I know what my mind is capable of; I know I can do it, I know I can fix him. I let him apply the same technique on me, I sit there in my cell, he pushes this net out of sync, in two different directions. For the second or two he is pushing this net apart I do feel a feeling in my tummy, it just tells me this is a bad idea, but I'm not going to leave one of my shrinks in a state, not if they need me. On top of this Luke is my friend. 

This problem must be difficult if Luke can't solve it, he's simply the best shrink I've ever met; he has plenty of abilities I have taught him, he's bright, sharp, adaptive and very good at what he does, it must be a difficult problem. My mind starts to suffer the exact same effects as what Luke's does. We're in it together now, in a hypnotic fight for our sanity together. I now have to spend my time in my cell in a right state, irritated, rash and scatty. I start doing things without thinking, I start lashing out, it isn’t nice; it is a fight to control it. I keep coming back to try to fix this neural network time after time after time. After I try for while I will forget about it and try at something else, I have found this the best way for me to work with hypnosis. This problem solving tactic helps with thinking around a problem and coming at it with a fresh perspective. I now try work out what has actually happened to our brains, the science of it and try bend my hypnotic abilities around the problem, I really do ply both my hypnotic and problem solving skills to fixing us, I keep trying. I am in need of some sleep now, I'm really tired after hours of trying. It is late. I hope this trick doesn't get in the way of sleep. I find I can get off to sleep, I drift off in my cell, I get some sleep. 

I am facing a big test of my abilities now, the hardest I have encountered. I'm used to trying to develop an ability I need and achieving it, most of the time very quickly, I'm not used to this, I really do have to try this time. 

A day or two now passes I am still scatty and rash and not thinking throughout. I keep trying different things to adapt around the problem. I'll find some kind of way to fix us. If I come up with enough good ideas surely I'll crack it eventually, as I say 'If you want fifty potential ways to solve the same damn problem you want me', I'll find something. After trying a hell of a lot of ways to fix this problem something occurs to me, I think of what I always planned to do with people with mental illness to fix them if I had the chance to sense them; I would look for what felt wrong in their mind and then take myself there. I'm ready to try something. I just try to sink into my own mind, I try and tune into what is actually wrong with my mind; what feels wrong, what I can sense is wrong. I let my mind relax and sink into itself. I find after a few seconds I have tuned myself into a new neural network, but not the one Luke had messed up, it is a different one. I just tried to find where was wrong in my mind, looking where this awful scatty sensation was coming from. 

This new neural net lights up in my EMS, I look to find a green brain shaped neural network that I think has a little of red in it, it looks like the surface of the brain made up of green thunderbolts. As soon as the net appears in my EMS I automatically tune into it, us Spectral hypnotists call this synchronising which is an important ability. As soon as the net is sync'd it feels a weight is lifted from me, I know what I have done, I can feel it, I have done it, I have fixed myself. Luke see's the new net and hurriedly takes it out of the conscious engine to go fix himself. I know he has what he needs now. Luke is soon to return wearing a smile. He says thank you to me. I have fixed myself and fixed Luke in the process, I have saved him.

This new net is an important one it seems. I am soon to have it displaced in my mind so only MI6 can have it. This all doesn’t matter to me; I have achieved what I needed to, I have saved my friend. I know if things were the other way round, I know he would do the same for me.

It’s things like this that really make me feel my life and work is worthwhile, the silver linings I seem to find on the sometimes darkest of clouds. Today is one of the points in my life I will never forget, today I was brave (and a bit stupid), I charged to the rescue without thinking but you know what; I'd do it again in a heartbeat and for any of my shrinks out there. A feeling of responsibility for my hypnosis grows stronger in me today. I seem to be able to do things that no one else can. Because of this I feel more and more that making sure the people with my hypnosis; my shrinks as I call them are ok, I feel it is on my shoulders; my job.

I’d like to call this green net me and Luke found today 'Luke’s net' as a present to him. Luke had given up on getting better, given up on his career, given up on his life really, he learnt today; never do this, never give up, ever.

It will be a long time before me and Luke are to find out what we really did in fighting and beating this hypnotic disorder, we simply don't have a clue at the moment, we have no idea of the repercussions. It takes me years to realise the implications and find out what we have done today...

                           (Ref.1)
      
                   -To be continued-


A couple of days now pass in my cell, I am not given a lawyer, I don't see a judge. Breakfast is at around six in the morning, I always get up for it, I like the ice cold fruit juice. Lunch is at twelve and diner is at five. MI6 experiment and torture me more or less constantly now, it's much worse when your in a cell. The only time it lets up is when Fuzz is in which she is thankfully often enough. I find myself wanting to go home, this isn't good, us Autistics don't cope well with imprissonment. I say to the guards I want to withdraw my asylum claim, not that this makes a difference, they won't let me out of this prison regardless, I am being treat like a criminal. I don't even have a pen and paper, I ask the other prisoners and someone kindly lends me a pen and a couple of pieces of paper, I get the distinct impression they are worth a lot more than a pen and paper usually are. I start writing a diary. I have to write very small to make up for my lack of paper, my diary is more a log of constant torture I am to find, I am experimented on a lot. I do find my diary an outlet for the abuse, it does help a little. When I am suffering badly like this it pushes me into an Alpha state which means I'm not in my stage of development that I've spent most of my life in, this is down to me being on the Autistic spectrum. It basically makes me really dopey rather than being in a theta state which is normal chatty bright me. I call this mode I go into when suffering a lot tortoise mode, my brain basically shuts down, I reason to protect itself, it makes it difficult to function though, it makes me want to keep to myself as well. I don't talk much with the other prisoners, I do tell them a bit about my situation. I can't get in touch with anyone else like a lawyer despite asking so I have to contact the UK embassy. There is a phone we can use which requires a phone card but calls to the embassy are free. I get in touch with a worker there. I explain some of my situation. The vice ambassador arranges to meet me. She comes to meet me on or around the 5th may 2004, I explain everything about MI6, she takes it all on, she knows it's the truth, that's obvious. I make the mistake though of asking her for help, help getting out of prison. I don't think she has my best interests at heart, she will be more concerned for what this means for Tony Blair's government. I don't know this at the time but within twenty four hours, on 6th may 2004 Richard Deerlove is fired as the head of MI6, officially he takes early retirement due to illness, Tony Blair forces him out of government. It is my birthday at midnight, I don't know about it at the time but it is a good birthday present. Tony Blair is now involved in my situation, there must be a lot goings on in Downing Street at the moment, there must be chaos. I spend my twenty fifth birthday in my prison cell. I am not to see anyone from the embassy again despite trying to contact them. 

This is when Tony Blair betrays Great Britain, I eventually find out about the current goings on between Downing Street and the Whitehouse; the deal they make. Blair makes a deal to save his own skin, he knows this situation could end his government, the deal is that the Americans get all the science and technology from my work and Great Britain merely gets to use my hypnosis to make money. They get everything basically. My opinion becomes; they aren't having all my damn work and technolgy like this, Tony Blair sold what was not his to sell. I am also to find part of the deal that Blair is making is for him to become one of the super rich and part of the worlds ruling elite. Tony Blair has sold out the people of Great Britain. I am unaware of any of these goings on in world affairs at the moment, I am trapped in a prison cell, I am cut off from any information on goings on, I am cut off from any support.

It's always nice seeing Fuzz when she is online, I have developed an affinity for her. Before the lobotomy I spent a lot of time getting to know her, she was in a lot. I find I do treat Fuzz a little different from my other shrinks, the others I always train and work on the brain with, with Fuzz I kind of just chat, I make her smile a lot. She has a bright smile, her sunshine smile as I call it. I look forward to Fuzz being online, I look forward to her visits to my cell, it doesn't feel so much like a cell when she is there. Now something happens I don't expect, Fuzz is in, we are finding distraction in each other as we find ourselves doing, I think it helps her as well as it helping me, I don't think things are good for her either, I think she is in a difficult position on her end of the bug. We talk and gen as we do. We waste hours away just chatting, its always kind of playful the way we talk. It is a challenge I enjoy to get beneath the surface with her. It's a challenge I find myself myself enjoying more as time goes by. As we talk away something happens, something that it seems has been trying to happen for a while, a feeling...It crashes down on me, energy; my suppressed frequencies, they flow back through my mind. I know what has happened straight away; it's Sleeping Rapists trick, where he mixed my love feelings with pain feelings, he left it on, it's breaking apart. Energy flows back through all my suppressed mind, Fuzz has undone this suppression in me, she has broken the spell. 

My feelings are flooding back into me now. The technique Sleeping Rapist used on me was effecting me that long I had even forgot it was there. My feelings are back now, I wasn't able to feel love until now. I realise I've been or is that should have been falling in love with Fuzz. I know what this means, so does she, with what happened with Ripley you learn quickly.  It broke my heart Ripley leaving me, I won't make the same mistakes again. Me and Fuzz both know MI6 will use what's happened against us. I know what will happen. We have a little time together though, we have now. Things feel different between us now when we talk, how we are with each other changes, we are both a bit different towards each other now. We both seem to have different feelings towards each other now. I gen a heart locked in golden chains and move it over to her, she knows what it means, I tell her I have to keep my heart in chains until this is over.  I tell her she has mended my broken wings. I want to keep this moment, I want to keep these feelings, I want to come back here. I tag this moment in my memory, I gen my old fashioned tape recorder I use to tap into my belief system, I press pause on it, I try remember this moment, so I can come back here some time when things are different. I remember. 

I know I have to follow my head for now, I know I need to focus on getting out of my cell and out of my situation, I can't just let myself fall in love, I have to fight for it, I have to fight. Something is a lot different now I realise, I feel back to normal, the suppressed frequencies, energy flows through me, I feel like before all the druggings and experiments, my brain pretty much lights up like a Christmas tree, my abilities are back to normal, I can tell. In recent months I had given up on doing my work, I thought my abilities and brain were beyond repair. Another feeling soon comes back to me, I feel it on my shoulders, it's the responsibility for what I can do that is back, all the people that can be helped with my hypnosis. It's a hard feeling to describe unless you have known responsibility yourself; you feel it on your shoulders. I really thought I had got rid of this feeling, it was actually a relief in a way, like my hypnosis was someone else's responsibility, not mine. I never really do get rid of this feeling again. I don't find out about anyone else who can do what I can, it always seems to come back to me. Fuzz is soon to have to leave, other shrinks come online. I hardly get to see her now, my cells stays a cell now, I don't get my escape from it. MI6 start to hit me pretty hard with suppression and everything they can throw at me now I have reasserted, at least they can't drug me in my cell. I am worried, I know what it means me getting back to 100%, I know how many people I can help with my hypnosis, I know what it can do. I don't want them to damage me, not for myself, it's for what it means. It's so important to me all the people my hypnosis can help, I plead with them nearly. They attack me anyway, the torture gets pretty bad. Days pass.

I pen down a poem for Fuzz on one of my pieces of paper in these days, it's a present for her, I haven't wrote a poem in a while. I write down my poem about her. 

                        What is Fuzz

Fuzz is what has stole my heart
Fuzz is love I'll never part
It's not the fuzz Benieth my couch 
Fuzz is love if leaves feels ouch

So never leave
Your in a place
Within my mind
Within a safe
Within a box so safe and strong
Within my soul forever long

A rose so bright
A rose from gloom
Smile lit by sun
That Lit this room
A room we find 
loves just a toy
A room we find 
escape in joy

So prison walls
Where these Lovers meet
See Swords always drawn 
And never shieth 
Just a challenge say
To find release
A challenge say
For what's beneath 
(For Fuzz)

Tony Blair has sent a new shrink over to America now he is involved. This shrink comes online, he says he's from the government, I think he's here to help, finally, about time. He is in his forties, psychiatricly trained, very calm and controlled and seems well educated, he seems a little empty though. I play with the idea of naming him Rio as I gen a carnival to express my feelings in gen form when I find out he was working for central government, he's not keen on the name, I think of another city and say 'I'll call you Paris'. I am surprised the abuse continues now Paris is here but it does. He comes and goes being online. I actually count the hours he's offline when I'm being tortured, being sure he will come in and stop it, he doesn't come in and stop it, I get constant abuse from Sleeping Rapist. 

Paris starts to train Sleeping Rapist which I find insulting. He starts to drip feed him abilities which are new ways to abuse me. I can see what is happening right in front of me and I am bright enough to know where it will lead, Paris is using some form of mind control technique. Sleeping Rapist starts to go more obsessive than usual, kind of fixated with the abuse. I tell him where this will lead, how it's not a good thing, I tell him it will take over his life. Paris is there to hand him another new trick though, he listens to Paris. This is the start of Paris being the head for the MI6 department, he is a lot different to Bob, I miss Bob. 

I ask the guards to see someone who is in charge to get some help, I tell them it is really important for their country. Eventually I get some attention for my situation, an important guard who is flanked by three guards comes to my cell, they then take me to an empty cell to talk. The three guards formally stand side by side, the important guard stands face to face with me, his uniform is more decorative than the other guards, he looks a bit like General Hammond from the Stargate TV series, he is bald like him. He asks me what I want to talk to him about. I explain why I am in America, about my hypnosis, I explain how much my hypnosis is worth to his country. I then make a very bold claim, I state that I can help America catch Bin Laden. I'm sure my hypnosis would be a perfect weapon to fight terrorism and do this (I even have a plan I came up with for MI6 to catch him). I know it's a big claim to make to this guard, especially in this city, the city where the twin towers stood only a not even three years ago but I am sure I can stand by my word. The guard soon ends our conversation, I am taken back to my cell. I don't see him again. I think something does come from my meeting with this guard though, I think he takes on some of what I have said to him.

In the coming hours and days I am to find guards come to my cell. I am being transferred out of the immigration wing to the medical watch cell I am told. As I am getting my belongings the prisoner who lent me his pen rushes in my cell and gets his pen back. I collect my diary and work and leave with the guards. I am taken to a large cell, it is about twenty meters square, it has bars at the front, there are bunks all the way around the walls apart from where the two showers and two toilets are. The floor in the centre of the cell is filled with cots for people to sleep in all apart from where there are two tables to sit on. There is only a thin walkway between the bunks and cots in the center of the cell to get around. A guard sits and watches everyone twenty four hours a day. The cell is very cramped, I count fifty six inmates in this cell. I chat with some of the inmates about why I'm in America, it's tough with the torture going on, it's making me a bit withdrawn and it's hard to function. I make the mistake of making eye contact with one of the prisoners, his eyes stand out and look glassy to me, there's no mistaking the look. MI6 have him online now. They use him being online to hypnotise another prisoner, then another, then another jumping from mind to mind. All fifty six inmates are online now, they aren't in a deep enough hypnotic state to hear me but I can sense they are all online, they are all within hypnotic range as well with me sleeping right in the middle in this small cell. My conscious engine buzzes, I can definitely tell everyone is online. Someone new is transferred to the medical cell soon after me, Dave. I sit at the table and talk to him, there is something about him I like, I can smell something on him, I'm sure in hindsight it was a patriotic streak to him, I recognised something in him. I find out he used to be in the army and was in the gulf war. He let's me borrow his radio, I listen to a few songs, I enjoy listening to Nirvana that comes on. We talk, I enjoy learning about America and tell him a bit about my country, I learn things like when we got to the moon they left a plaque saying 'we come here in the name of all mankind' and other things he had been educated on but I hadn't. I don't often take to people like this, I'm always right when I do. We chat about why I'm in America, I tell him a bit about my situation and hypnosis, he is very interested in all this, he reads through some of the work I'm doing and looks at my diagrams. It gets late, I decide to go to sleep, when I am to wake up I find Dave is gone from the cell, I find myself thinking he might have been an agent, he  was very interested in my work, a lot more than any of the other prisoners I have mentioned it to. I'm not good at talking and reading between the lines though, especially when I'm being tortured, this holds me back with such things. Theta Autistics are sensitive, the abuse mixed with looking at the same four wall day after day makes it hard to function. I am starting to get worried about the bacterial infection, there is blood when I go to the toilet now. I tell the guards, I get to see a doctor who does nothing, he doesn't even take a swab. Over and over I tell the guards about my symptoms but they do nothing, this isn't good. 

The medical watch cell is full of gangs. It is quite multi cultural in here, in our box. There are a few races, each race that there are a few of seem to have a gang. There are the blacks, the whites and the Mexicans. There are some other races, I keep to myself and don't join a gang. I still try to get a lawyer in vain, I spend some of the money they took off me on commissary, the prisons shop that I have now been told about. I have to wait for my supplies, you can buy things once a week. I buy some pens, some paper some food and a phone card. I get the number for a lawyer from another inmate. Right, a lawyer. I can't get through to a lawyer and my twenty dollar phone card is completely eaten up trying. I need to now wait a week to try again. I have to spend a whole week being tortured in the cramped overcrowded cell waiting for another chance to get a lawyer. The days pass slowly. I start to put some work together to make up for my lost work, I put down my theories and some diagrams like the structure of personality. I look at the food much differently now, they give you just enough to get by but not enough to be full, I find myself hungry a lot of the time so have started looking forward to mealtimes, the food seems much more appetising now. We get proper meat like a chicken thigh on a Sunday and on a bank holiday. It's pretty warm in our cell with it being New York in the summer and a crowded cell but I find the Americans have a liking for keeping cool, there is a big fan for our cell and a ready supply of ice the guards keep topped up. I am to find my first thing that I am to really enjoy in America, I'm sure there's plenty to enjoy in America usually, I'm just not seeing much of it, other than cherry cool aid I discover, it's so nice. It's delicious. It is served ice cold at meal times and is the nicest drink, I really don't know why we don't have it in Great Britain. 

It is night time now, the cell buzzes with some activity even at night, it never happens that everyone is asleep at the same time, there is always some chattering going on somewhere in the cell. I try and get some sleep. I am sleeping, I am in a deep sleep, liquid pours into my mouth, I wake choking and spit it out instinctually, I pull the cover from over my head, I sit up in my cot and look around, everyone is asleep motionless around me. Someone just tried pouring liquid down my throat though, it was one of them. It was just some stupid prank. The next night arrives, again I go to sleep. I am in a deep sleep. I choke, I cough and spit out the liquid, I sit up in my cot and push my sheet off, it has happened again. He was fast as well, I look around and the people around me are all motionless again. It was one of them though. This happens a third time, it's getting to the point it's kind of pissing me off now. I am too dopey from my torture to work out straight away I shouldn't have been spitting this liquid out, I should have been swallowing it. I eventually work out it is a CIA agent doing this and they are trying to give me the antibiotics I need for the bacterial infection MI6 gave me. I guess it is the only way they can think of to get them in my system. A day passes. It is now dinner time in the medical watch cell. I get my drink first and sit in my cot, I then go to get my food, I realise I left my drink when it is too late, it could have been spiked now, you find you become aware of such possibilities when you have been spiked as many times as me. I chance it anyway and drink my drink, I am thirsty and it is cherry cool aid after all. I am to find I never get liquid poured into my mouth again on a night and the blood when I go to the toilet disappears, I work out I was spiked with the antibiotics I needed. I am sure there are agents in the cell but they haven't talked to me openly and I am quite withdrawn from the horrid abuse I am getting twenty four hours a day so working out who they are is difficult. I'm autistic so talking between the lines won't work with me, this could hold me back. If they are agents they would surely just talk to me openly right? They will obviously know I'm an Asperger.

I have been in the medical cell more than a couple of weeks now and I have not joined a gang. I am to find out this is kind of expected. This week I get my commissary, I turn around for a split second, literally a split second and my entire see through bag of food and supplies is gone, he was fast. I am left with just the coffee and phone card I have in my greens shirt pocket and my work and diary, my only belongings. My coffee is soon stolen also. At least no one is interested in my paperwork, the most important thing I have. I try again in vain to get in touch with a lawyer with my phone card, it is soon all used up in vain. Someone definitely doesn't want me getting a lawyer. I am soon to meet the prison psychiatrist, I get taken to an appointment, finally I might get some help, I tell him my story and about my hypnosis, he seems corrupt, he isn't being logical and open to reason, an Autistic can detect this very easily, something is wrong with this. He is no help, he won't help me get support from the American government or anything of the like. Great.

It is a week later, I have ordered my commissary again, I know to be careful this time. I literally just glance away from my bag for a second and it is gone, they were lightning fast and planned it well. I am in a cell with professional thiefs and hustlers, the more corrupt element from the streets of New York so I guess things like this will happen. I am left without supplies again, I have a good stock of paper though and a couple of pens, it might be a bit demoralising losing my supplies but I have what's important.

Every few days a guard will come to the cell and shout 'roof gym', we get to go up to the roof where there is an open air gym with big solid fences all around it. I always go, the open air is nice. If you lay down at the fence there is some wire fencing you can see through, I look, so this is all I get to see of America, I see a big hill with some trees on it.

There is a PCP addict I talk to a few times, he steals cars for a living I find out. He whispers under his breath a lot to himself, he has voices obviously, I want to try cure his voices but I'm crippled without being able to do hypnotic inductions. I do get to learn a little about voices and the brain from him though, it is worthwhile talking to him.

One day a new inmate is transferred in. The second he is in the cell he takes his sheet, climbs up the prison bars at the front of the cell and tries to hang himself, guards invade the cell. He is taken off to the other medical watch cell I am told. Apparently you have to just sit there doing nothing in paper clothing, it seems it's for the severe cases. I feel sorry for that guy, I don't imagine the new cell will make him feel any better.

The constant experiments eat away at me, yet again this is the worst time in my life, I'm suffering a lot. I sometimes lay in my cot with my sheet pulled over my head to get away from the feeling of being around people twenty four hours a day, I like being around people a lot, I guess even I need some time by myself. Fuzz, Paris and Sleeping Rapist are in today. Sleeping Rapist gloats he has attacked Fuzz, I know he has done this just to get at me. I know Fuzz is in a bad position tactically, if only I can get onboard with the American government, I'd be able to get her out of there. Sleeping Rapist has made one mistake, I know what he is now, I change his name to Active Rapist. I am soon to find Him doing an experiment with a bright blue Beta net I discovered in this cell, he has his EMS enlarged, his mind will be loud, I see my chance, I simply ask him how many women he's raped and he replies 'twenty one'...And then goes nuts, he isn't happy he just blurted it out. I've got beneath his armour. I never thought a shrink with abilities like the love trick would ever need to rape, it never occurred to me. This is my first neural hack as I one day come to call it, this is the very start of me extracting information out of him and using language as a weapon. I am to give myself quite the education hacking secrets out of Active Rapist in the future. The torture is still constant.

Something nice happens one day I am to find, there is an old man in the cell everyone calls Pops. He is an old age navy veteran, he's very lively for his age but can't look after himself now. Pops has soiled himself, word (and an unpleasant odour) gets around the cell. I am now to see a number of inmates all work together to get Pops out of his soiled clothes, showered, powdered and changed, it is sweet all of these tough New York criminal types working together to help an old man. It is one of the few nice experiences in this cell. 

There is a guy who lends out food in the cell, he is the top dog it seems, he has the only bunk which has some privacy, he keeps a large stock of food in. I find out he will lend you a honey bun; a common treat you see people eating in exchange for two in return, with my commissary getting stolen I get hungry and sometimes lend honey buns from him. I find my commissary isn't stolen until I have paid back the honey buns I owe this guy. I am to find the porterican prosititutes that inhabit the cell often blurt out 'can I have a honey bun' if they think you are in ownership of any. The torture continues, I just suffer and keep it to myself, I soldier on knowing it will be over at some point.

I am now to get to see the immigration judge for the first time. I am taken from my cell first thing, everyone who is going to court is put in ankle and wrist shackles and put in a prison van. We go for quite a long ride, we eventually get to the court house. We are herded into a waiting area, then eventually another. We have a crappy sandwich and some fruit for dinner. It is my turn to see the judge, this is my chance.

The judge does all the talking for some time, he talks about my case, he can see how desperate I am to interject and get my point across. The judge eventually asks me about my asylum attempt, I jump on the chance to explain about MI6 and my hypnosis, he says he knows a little about hypnosis which is great. I explain myself well, us Autistics are very logical. He says I don't seem crazy at all. I hand him the work I've done while in the medical watch cell to make up for my lost bag and it's contents, it includes a big diagram of personality and information on what's happened to me, why I'm there. He takes photo copies of my work. I take to this judge, he seems bright and sharp. He asks me why I don't have a lawyer, I explain, he tells me it's easy to get one which frustrates me, he says he could go in the other room, pick up the phone and call one easy enough that it's just a phone call, which frustrates me even more. He doesn't know what I'm up against with my bug, the powers that be don't want me having a lawyer. He adjourns this session now to a later date. We get back to the jail for tea time.

We have to be strip searched upon returning from excursions like this, everyone does. We are taken to the strip search room, I am strip searched. I take off my clothes and hand them to the guard, he looks at my socks that say 'sex machine' on them and laughs, I explain my girlfriend bought me them. It's handy being six foot three when being naked like this I am to find, I just stand up to my full height and look down at the guard, it gets rid of any uncomfortable feelings. I get given my clothes back and put them on, the guard then opens and leads me out of the door. We walk through the door, there is a row of prisoners lent against the wall waiting, to signal me to join these prisoners the guard says 'there you go sex machine' I see him suddenly wince realising how this must look to the other prisoners having just walked out of the strip search room, there are a couple of muffled laughs. He isn't impressed. I'm the walking wounded by now, the torture and imprisonment really is dragging me down, I keep to myself, my head is firmly in its shell.

One day I am sat at the communal table and this guy comes and tells me to move, I say there is room for both of us, he still wants me to move, he is right in front of me and tells me in an aggressive way to move, I politely try shuffle up and say there is enough room. He then goes for me, my instincts just take over when someone does that this close to me, I have strong instincts. I instinctually go for him, we wrestle a bit, he's fast, he manages to jump on my back, I bend right over and flick the base of my spine up, he tumbles over my shoulders and on to the floor, he shouts 'you don't know who I am', he's up like a flash, he's quick, he goes for me, we have hold of each other, he now sinks his teeth into my arm. At this point all the other prisoners get involved, his head is held back by some of them and I have a clear shot at his face, I don't hit him, I shout 'I'll kill you if you try that shit again' which I really shouldn't have said in this environment, I have a feeling some of the people in here would take such things very seriously. Guards flood into the cell, me and this other guy are taken to isolation.

The guards man handle me a bit now, pushing me about. They take me to an office. I think there unhappy they can't mistreat me like I've seen them do to others because I'm British, I get that distinct impression, what happens next makes me sure. One of the guards holds my cuffed hands behind my back a certain way, he plies pressure with his thumb between my wrist and base of my thumb. I don't see him but I feel his movement; he shows another guard where he's applying pressure. He applies pressure for about fifteen minutes, I don't know what he's doing at the time, he jars my thumb for a few days from this. The guard says to me 'your gonna get your trip to the hospital' in reference to all the times I asked for help with the bacterial infection. I am put in ankle and wrist shackles and taken to the local hospital. I get there and realise this might be a chance, I'm going to try get a scan for my bug. The doctor checks my bite on my arm, I tell him I was hit pretty hard in the collar and chest to try get an X-ray, the collar bone was where they hid the last bug I found out about. They say they need to take an X-ray, yes! This is a chance. MI6 are worried about this. They do the X-ray, I get told its normal, I see it but at range, nothing comes of this. I try now claiming I was hit in the head suddenly thinking my bug must be in my head but the doctor thinks I'm just trying to get as much time out of prison as possible, he isn't going to do it. Dammit. I am soon to be taken back to Passaic county prison.

I am now taken to isolation, I see the shower cubicle on the way in to this cell, it's disgusting. There is one other prisoner in my cell to talk to, he is a long term inmate I am to find from the state pen, he seems friendly. I am in isolation for a few days the torture and experiments are constant. I discover a fair few neural nets while over here in America, my abilities are still functioning despite all the druggings and punishment they take, it seems neurologically speaking us Autistics are built like tanks. A few days pass.

I am transferred back to the medical watch cell now. There are a couple of people I think might be CIA but they don't approach me. I'm in a bit of a way and my mind is turned inwards thinking about pain too much. One day I am taken to see the prison shrink again, he is no help again but he does say one thing, he is transferring me out of the medical cell and back to the immigration wing. They take me straight to a holding cell. Dammit, my diary and all my work is still in the medical watch cell. A cleaner, a prisoner passes by who gets to go in different cells, I explain things and he agrees to help. He comes back with my precious pieces of paper. I am soon back in the immigration wing.

One day I am laid on my bed and Paris tell me they are going to use a frequency that does brain damage on me, a frequency the Nazis developed. All of a sudden there is a screeching in my head, my head tilts down, it feels like every neurone my brain has turned into a chain saw. After a second this stops, this I was to find wasn't a frequency the Nazis had developed, it was a frequency the CIA had developed, it was the CIA showing off what they could do with mind control. That frequency certainly would do brain damage, it hurt like hell. The CIA made a mistake showing off though, I got a good look, or is that feel of that weapon, it allowed me to eventually work out how their frequency weapon works, it's simple really, it very well might be useful information to have. I won't put it online for fear of it's misuse in the wrong hands, large scale Quantum weaponry to do similar worries me a lot I must admit. The torture continues but at least I can get commissary now without it being stolen. My cell mate is a computer programmer from Greese, he seems a bit strange, I can't develop any type of rappor with him, I'm being tortured a lot so socialise little. The computer guy seems to say things that could be relevant to the CIA, I'm no good at communicating between the lines though especially in the state I'm in. Why won't agents just talk to you openly and logically, it would make things much easier. Days pass.

Today I decide to go into the day room area for all the inmates on the wing. Someone offers me some white powder they are snorting off the table, I say no thank you. I'm in up to my neck with MI6, taking drugs with 'you don't know what' in them is a bad idea, even if I am suffering a lot. The guy offers me some again and says 'here have some', I say 'no', he tries again, now this is suspicious. Paris is in my head and he isn't happy, he says 'if I tell someone to do something I expect them to do it' in a lashing out fashion, I obviously dodged a bullet here. The CIA has a few agents in this place it seems. A day or two passes, I have my lunch and afterward I start to feel funny, I've been drugged, they must have got my drink again. The rest of my stay in America becomes a blur, it's something like sodium pentathol, I lay on my bed for days not sleeping, it makes my sweat smell, afterwards I stink. Paris talks to me a lot under the influence of this drug. Being spiked with this drug once lasts about a week, my court date is here now. I am not in a good way for it though the drug is wearing off. I am taken to court again, this time the judge is different, him and the lawyer I've been given won't even look at me this time, I'm in a way, I must look like a prisoner of war, I'm in a right state. I've never even met my lawyer, this is all wrong. I say I just want to go home, it's obvious America doesn't want to help me, they have done nothing but abuse me and now drug me, it is pointless. They say I can be sent home in a couple of days. So after two months or more of abuse they are going to release me. I can't help but think I should have waited for the judge to do a proper hearing but I knew it would be a kangaroo court. He wasn't going to help me, I guess America doesn't want me as a citizen.

Four days pass and I'm not released, more days pass and the same again, one week then two weeks pass, I am experimented on and tortured throughout, it really is much worse in a cell. At this point I set in for the long run rather than counting the days. 

I'm laid on my bed one day and I accidentally look into one of the potential CIA agents eyes, I just catch his eyes, he has the glassy eyed look, the hypnotic gaze, Paris says to me, he knows he's looking into the eyes of a dead man. I remember this look. In time I am to get a clue as to why the Americans didn't want to take me on, why they would let someone with my abilities leave their country. Tony Blairs government supplied the CIA with a supply of my semen, the semen MI5 stole from me, an unthinkable crime, I just hope they have good lives and don't live as slaves in what's meant to be the land of the free.

It is now August 2004 three months since I arrived in America. A guard comes to my cell today, I am told to gather my belongings, I gather my asylum attempt information and my diary of my time in America, I am taken to the the room where I was given my greens and bobo's three months ago. I am given my clothes back, I put them on, they feel strange and overly comfortable if anyone understands what I mean. I'm leaving, it's over. This has been the hardest experience of my life again, but it's over. I'm exhausted from the abuse. I am taken to the airport by two immigration guards, I ask for a cigarette and I am given my first cigarette in three months. It seems strange, being outdoors; it seems brighter than what it should be like. I smoke my cigarette outside the airport before the flight.

On my flight back I do find myself thinking it wasn't a complete waste of time going to America, I've managed to get my hypnosis out of the country and to the Americans like what I planned. At least now two countries will have to wrestle over what to do with my hypnosis. Hopefully now it will be used the right way. All I really want to do is help people and for everything to work out.

My flight arrives in Great Britain at Heathrow airport. So I am back home, I still have a bug in my head I can't live without, I still have my life on the line with MI6, my life it looks is still a fight. I didn't get help in America but I am still breathing at least, I might not have found freedom but I have survived, and as long as I'm alive I've got a chance. Right. Back to it. I need to think of a new plan now. I need to change things. I need to think of...something.

                   To be continued.

------------------------------------------------
Years later... 

(This is a chapter I am planning to add to near the end of part 4 'Hard Times')

A story of Far away lands and broken spells part two

It's is May....(I never bloody realised this, did the CIA plan this as a thank you?!? I never realised the date until now-This is my comment as I write this- Damion).
It is May first 2011, it (it turns out) is seven years to the exact day since I arrived in America seeking asylum, not that I note that it is the anniversary of my venture there. 

Something has happened, within a day it will be all over the world media. A day passes. I am in my flat alone watching television now, the news comes on, the newsreader states America has captured Bin Laden, I look up, my face curls up into a big giant smile; they got him! I knew it! I'm pretty damn sure they will have used my hypnosis to do it! This is ace! They got him! I must admit this does kind of grow my confidence in what I do from this point onwards, I set out to help achieve something great; helping catch Bin Laden and I'm sure I pulled it off. 

I sit in front of my television and think, I can't help but think back to 2004 in America. My mind goes back to the prison cell, when I talked to the important guard. I remember what I said to him; I told him I could help them catch Bin Laden, I told him we could do it. I'm to find myself not being bothered about anyone knowing about my part in all this, not at all (despite me finally writing this, a contradiction I know), I don't want a fuss about it but I do find I want one person to know, I want that guard to know...It's important to me. I want him to know I stood by my word, I want him to know I didn't let him down. I did what I said I would. I stood by my word.

I know Bin Laden may have had his reasons for September the eleventh, I know as well as anyone what it's like having the Americans take over your country and having to fight with little to nothing for your country's freedom. I know Bin Laden had his reasons but you can't betray what's right to win. The reason I'm pretty pleased I helped catch him was that he took more than three thousand innocent lives, then there's wars in the Middle East that probably wouldn't have happened without him, costing many Muslim lives. Bin Laden cost so many good lives when he could have just come up with a better plan and achieved much more, I've had no help or training but I've found ways to fight. He should have taken on my tactics like I'd recommend to any freedom fighter. If you face an unjust enemy you should use their evil plans and deeds as your weapon, you should fight to win hearts and minds, fight for what's right. I pose a threat to my enemy because of this; I can turn their countries against them. Bin laden chose a different route and brought only bad things into the world, he's dead and gone and I'd say the world is better for it.

I find myself sometimes wondering of the story behind his capture and if one day the real story will be known, I wonder how my hypnosis was used. I always imagine some exiting story that ends with Bin Laden's contact saying to him 'don't worry Osama, your safe, I contacted you by the allotted time, I haven't been got, you don't have to worry, you don't have to move your safe house' not that he'd realise he had a neural (telepathic) hack going, Ha.

So all in all I am proud to have done my bit; what I said I could do. I am proud I played my part such as it was. I helped get him! I must admit in one of my more gung-ho moods, I have thought to myself; 'he wasn't expecting a telepath to come along and F#%$ him up now was he'. (/cheeky smile- Damion)

                        -the end-

Ref.1 A pastel drawing of Luke's net that doesn't look close enough to the real thing for Damion to be happy with.




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