The Truth Though
When my handler set up my communication codes he told me “I’m going to use ‘love’ and ‘relationship’ codes, is that alright?” Sure, I said right away but instantly I realized very quickly what he was attempting to do. “Wait” as he was very quickly walking off. He had started giving me split-second decision-making “tests” so that I didn’t have time to process what was happening. He was trying to program me to be a “drone”, literally a robot who responded to his every command. His mistress was there grilling me at the time, she of course was a grown woman but I was six or seven. She was literally hovering over me, aiding him in gaining more and more control. To this very moment she claims to be innocent, but she was ALWAYS a willing participant.
“What do you mean exactly,” I asked him. He sighed the same way he does when he gets caught doing extremely deviant things. “It’s the only way I will be able to maintain communication during the most difficult times,” he said. I could tell he was manipulating because I knew his tells. He trained me to spot some of them, but I picked up on far more than he was aware of. “That can become confusing, are there any other options,” I asked. At this point, he’s triggered, angry, hurt, and literally repositioned in a physically combative stance. He was ready to do battle with me, he was over 50, I wasn’t even eight years old. His mistress, just as sadistic and abusive, flanked on my right inches from me. I could literally feel her breath on me, looking down on me hovering, trying to intimidate. He always told me “she hates you because she wants to be in your place”. I felt it fully at that moment. She may have been her father’s victim, but she wasn’t his. She was ready, willing, and able. She wasn’t under mind control, hypnosis, she had no implants, she wasn’t beaten. I saw her with no clothes MANY times, I never saw a bruise, broken bone, no injuries ever. The opposite was true, she was clearly a wealthy princess! She went out of her way to chase deviant activities because she saw them as opportunities. I ran from them, fought them, risked life and limb to avoid them. She chased them like an addiction. It was all about money. Her family had serious troubles and she would do ANYTHING to get the money and power back. That became her permanent reputation.
“What is she doing here” I used to ask. He would laugh and say “ she asks the same thing about you.” Everyone did, they were racist. That wasn’t what I meant. Why is she in my space, my energy, my life? What is she doing around me?
I’ve never seen anyone threaten her, she never suffered for anything. She always lived in extreme luxury and she said from her own mouth “I do what I want!” She was not his victim. “She sought me out!” He used to say frustrated because she annoyed him and he couldn’t stand it when I was cold for any reason, it interfered with his fantasies. Whenever she came around, I grew cold. “I don’t trust her” I always told him. “I’ll take care of it,” he said.
She wasn’t around me as long as the other people, a handful of years and with limited contact even then. But much like his best friend who had the exact same problem, both obsessed over him because of his power. they constantly attacked me because they saw me as competition. It’s so irrational, all of it. They were all adults, I was a tiny child. They were not his victims but his allies, I on the other hand had no power and control, but they envied me. they were a man and a woman with vast resources and allies, access to power, and wielded a lot in their own right. But none of that was enough, nothing is ever enough for these people. They have to covet what they think someone else may have over them, perceived advantages that don’t even exist.
The levels of depravity he exposed me to were so suffocating that I still to this day am shocked that I survived it all. She deserves to be in the prison cell she is in for all of the people she hurt, and more. At least she’s getting better treatment than any of her victims ever received. He should have been in prison also, instead, he was granted full immunity and never held accountable for anything. But I’m the “threat” for exposing the truth of what he did to me?
In a flash, I told myself, never ever forget this moment! As far as I was concerned they both were evil, couldn’t be trusted, and had to be managed. I wasn’t even in 4th grade, they were both adults. “It’s going to be complicated because of all of the relationships you have attached me to. It will get confusing to me, how will I know who is who?” His facial expression, body language, and eyes changed. I could tell that he realized I had found a flaw in his plan, which was my job, and he said “oh” softly. “Can we get around that?” he asked. “There will have to be unique codes for each of them in order for me to maintain it.” He then looked hopeful. A flash of light went through his eyes, he shifted his body language again and was in a trusting position. “Okay,” he said very gently and smiled a little bit. “Will that make you feel more comfortable,” he asked very sweetly trying to make it seem as though he gave a damn about my comfort. “I can manage it better,” I said. He was clearly putting on quite the show and it worked. I felt his mistress seething, but when she saw his behavior change she was clearly dejected. I didn’t acknowledge her, but I could see her body language. He looked confused, which he often did when we ourselves engaged our own code in front of others. He clearly was giving the message that we needed a follow-up outside of her presence. This was our process.
She probably didn’t know but he was always using me to test her, everyone actually. We were communicating on multiple layers and she could sense it, but she didn’t exactly know what we were actually saying to each other. Every form of communication between us, at all times, had at a minimum of 3 dimensions but sometimes more. She may have observed the 1st, possibly the 2nd, but not the third. That was the test for her at that moment, how deep could she go.
He looked disappointed as he always did when I set boundaries with him, and he had the look on his face that let me know he was going to drill down and devise another plan. He knew that I instinctively held back and he hadn’t been able to kill that reaction in me as of yet, so he constantly put me in scenarios where I was exposed in front of others. He knew how much I hated it, feared it, and would be forced to comply when it happened. If anyone ever caught on to what he was doing, and I was connected to the exposure, that would mean someone had to be sacrificed as punishment. Me, family, friends, pets, whomever they decided would pay. I was always under threat.
I wasn’t allowed to set boundaries with him so if I attempted to at any time particularly in front of another person then he felt something was broken and he had to be fixed. I had gone through this with him so many times, it was our process. This was part of my “training”.
She was an operative from a foreign nation, one that he was charged with developing new allies with. He used me to vet people all the time, that’s why she was there. She didn’t have my training and that’s the main reason she hated me, I was just a little poor Black girl but already outpaced her by leaps and bounds. She loathed me and every time she had the opportunity to abuse me, she did. She couldn’t stand my “innocence” and hated my ability, to be honest, and ethical which was also why I was trusted. She couldn’t gain trust easily, neither could he. People sensed their dishonesty, their manipulation, their conniving and deviant natures. They didn’t act on it except to withdraw because they were wealthy and powerful, but they never trusted. They used others for that. She hated how people responded to me, and envied my handler's obsession. “Was she abused by her father?” I asked immediately after meeting her the first time. “Yes, how could you tell” he was curious to know. “It oozes from her,” I said. It’s present in all of us but some of us mask it, she couldn’t.
We both watched him walk away slowly. He was putting on a show for her, to make her jealous. She was easier to control that way, that was his method. I on the other hand was furious that he kept doing these things, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t reveal any emotion in the moment, or allow any of my own tells to seep through. I had to mask all that I was feeling, thinking, experiencing. I had to “maintain protocols” at all costs. Even after being raped by her, his wife, his mother, and his sister, along with him all at once, on various different occasions, I was expected to remain calm and not reveal any “tells”. To him, this was not just fulfillment of his fantasies but “training”. He told me my entire life, “you have to be able to maintain in any situation. The only way to ensure that you can, is if you are trained. The best way to train is to experience”. That’s how he raised me yet people don’t question HIS sanity, they question mine.
Once he was out of earshot, she started in with her typical bullying. “Do you want that?” she asked for the first time, in a normal way. Every time she communicated with me it was derogatory, abusive, condescending, or with an agenda in mind. “No,” I said emphatically. Now I have to shift into a whole other form of communication, with a totally different set of codes. He had given me codes to use with her, she walked into the trap. The thing about me though is that I always tell the truth. Because they are all liars, they always get confused. “You’re going to be my Trojan Horse” he would say. Everyone underestimated me, everyone looked down on me, everyone had their own agenda, and everyone assumed I wasn’t capable of being as “intelligent” as they perceived themselves to be. “Why didn’t you tell him,” she said already desperate, frustrated, couldn’t maintain her composure for more than a sentence when she was triggered. “I can’t,” I said and the tears began to well up.
What also confounds them is authenticity. I always tell the truth, but a lot of people assume that I am lying and manipulating so they miss a lot while I have taken in everything I need to know. People are busy chasing the facade of who and what they think I am and I’m off and running with what I need to do to take care of myself. That’s how you survive extremes, stay as many steps ahead as you can get. In order to maintain control over me, he makes sure he interferes with how far ahead I can get.
I went on, “he won’t allow it”. She knew how he felt about me, she knew exactly what I meant. At first, I thought she was looking for a replacement for her father, she mentioned something like that once. Or maybe he did. I can’t really recall. But ultimately, they both told me what they were up to. She lost her composure again and became angry “well if you don’t want him I do!” She snapped, seeming very out of place for the kind of classified environment we were in. Who thinks that way. I’m a child, he’s a pedophile, I am his victim, you are a grown woman. Why do you see competition when you should sense danger for both of us?
In that environment, everyone had to have a certain level of training in order to reach a particular clearance, he allowed her in without it. “Why would you do that,” I asked. “It compromises us all and your religion is not getting caught. So what’s really going on”? He always looked like the cat that ate the canary when he was up to something “I have my reasons”. That meant I couldn’t go any further, so I left it.
“I really want to be with him and I will do anything to have him! I’m going to go for it! I’m going to go after him! I’m going to do whatever I have to do to get him!” She was now totally out of control, it took just a few simple words to get her off balance. I had never encountered anyone in this environment who lacked the ability to maintain composure over themselves in critical moments. All of our lives were always on the line, all of us! Any kind of outside agitation could be dangerous in ways that terrified all of us. A lot of people wanted her out of there and he got a lot of push back on it. Even the deviants could see she was volatile, she couldn’t. It didn't make sense to me because her instability literally put the entire program and everyone affiliated with it in jeopardy. He always said that was his worst fear, so why was she there.
She was speaking rapidly, with a high-pitched tone, her pulse was visibly racing as could be seen at the base of her throat, her chest was beating faster, her body language was frantic though she tried to mask it. And she sounded like she was running out of time for some reason. I felt she was hiding more than he knew. I sensed that her own government was using her to do things he was unaware of and she believed I was somehow in the way and she was running out of time. “You do what you feel like you have to do,” I told her. “It won’t work though. You can go now.” I told her calmly. I had been dealing with his women for so long I had developed my own methods for shutting them down quickly when they began to project. She was actually my “assistant”, he hired her for me to assess her and that was her pathway into the facility. I didn’t want to be around her but he wanted to know the truth about her and he clearly she had an agenda. She walked off without saying another word. They had an altercation after, he told me. Eventually, she lost access to the facility, I was elated.
When he and I debriefed the first thing he asked was “did you really mean that”? He was smiling a little but also had a look of concern. His voice wavered, his body language was open but he stood by the door. He used that tactic when he wanted to run out of the room quickly to hide his emotions. I didn’t understand why he behaved that way then, but I see why now. He was intimidated and I never knew.
He was clearly afraid that I was rejecting him. “Some of it,” I said calmly, trying to diffuse some of his angst. “He came closer to me and was more relaxed at this point, but concerned that he may hear something that will hurt him. I have gone through this my entire life with him, I know things about him he didn't know about himself. THAT was what he wanted, someone who could see into him. THAT is what he molded me to be, his mirror. He felt it made the bond stronger, the relationship inescapable, and he craved the intensity. To him, it was all thrilling but also a huge gamble. “‘I’m concerned that something can happen to me to interfere with my ability to separate the details. Different codes will help me maintain that process. But also, I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t trust her, you know that. She’s the last person I would want to have access to that part of me. My entire life is on the line.” He was serious now because he knew how intent I was. He liked to keep me in a particular emotional space because any fluctuation made it more difficult to control me. He was getting older and starting to feel it, he didn’t have the physical power and strength that he used to have. At the same time, I was getting bigger, older, more skilled. Even he felt he was in competition with me. The power struggle was all about control, always.
“But do you want me to communicate with you that way?” I didn’t, but I couldn’t say no. “Yes”. Which was true, it was the choice that I had to make between two terrible options. Did I want him to have the ability to manipulate my emotions, forever, even at a distance with just words? HELL NO! But he already said, “this is the only way” and I wasn’t allowed to disobey or say no.
He used forms of coercion that were hard to detect. His religion not getting caught, with me he always believed in his heart that I would be the one to bring him down. In the end, he said it was her, he had confused us all along and given me the “revenge” that she deserved because he had a hard time figuring out who was who. I suffered in ways that have permanently altered me genetically for the sake of the very person who literally was his undoing. People say he died peacefully, the truth is he was tormented because for the first time he finally saw through his own delusions.
It wasn’t just a test for her, it was a setup for me. He did it all the time he just never really knew how much of that I picked up on. Of course, I didn’t tell him, I was trying to survive. “You didn’t tell me everything,” he said in the end. This is why! He would have used it to further trap me. He was furious that I had managed to establish boundaries, despite all the abuse. That scenario wasn’t just a setup to trigger her but to have her as a witness to my “consent”. The force, threats, and coercion always went on in extremely classified settings, few ever witnessed that. By the time he placed me around others, I had been raped, tortured, beaten, drugged, hypnotized, and programmed with what information I was allowed to and not allowed to say. I also was never allowed to lie, the consequences for that were as severe as saying no. If he had any idea I was holding back all these years, I can’t even imagine what he would have done.
“I understand,” he said. How would you like to handle this? The only time he let me have any kind of agency was when he felt I had a deeper understanding of something than he did. “We will have to develop code, but I prefer to do that with each of them. We can also utilize some of your codes so that if we are compromised, it will be difficult to decipher who is who.” He looked very serious, he was in agreement, and he proceeded to do just that. It’s not that he didn’t understand how to do this, he didn’t yet understand how to apply these processes to me. I was a new “toy”, a lot of what we were doing we developed as we went along. We tweaked processes constantly. He was afraid of getting caught and I was afraid of getting exposed. He loved these games, but it wasn’t just that, the more he threw at me the more we were entangled. He hoped all of these traumas, triggers, and scenarios would bond me to him permanently. He wanted her around me so that I would learn from her, he envied the relationship her father had with her growing up and he wanted that. He that some of her would rub off on me, instead she just rubbed me the wrong way. Literally and figuratively.
He didn’t like for me to be analytical and dispassionate about him, “I would rather you hate me than to be cold or indifferent. That just means you have no passion and to me, that’s worst than rejection, that’s betrayal.” But I was a little girl, he refused to accept that I had the mind of a child and responded intuitively like one. An advanced one yes, but a child still.
“YOU CAN MATURE FASTER YOU’RE JUST REFUSING TO” he used to scream at me in his most furious states. He was always at his worst when I either seemed like I was rejecting or holding back. “If you love me you will hold back nothing, ever” he always said. Not loving him was never an option and I couldn’t pretend, it had to be real. Even if it meant using trauma bonding, Stockholm Syndrome, hypnosis, mind control, drugs, torture, whatever it took. He wanted it to truly come from me even if he had to rip it out of me and take it. That’s how he raised me, that’s how I have lived my entire life. Just to experience the emotion of not wanting him or something he demanded and he sensed it, that was enough for him to explode with extreme violence. Most of my worst injuries in life come from him literally “sensing” or “foreseeing” something that made him “feel” a way that he didn’t like. To him, that is betrayal.
“What did she say when I left,” he said laughing. I hated her with a passion but I don’t like to see any woman degraded by a man, ever! I always take the side of the woman, every time. Until she gives me reasons not to. But even then, I don’t throw women under the bus. I may fight back, but I never tell everything. ALL women have it hard in this world, we would be a strong force if we stood together rather than in competition. “She said she wants you and is willing to do anything to get you,” I told him. That was what he wanted to know, how willing was she.
“Really,” he said laughing again. His forehead furrowing a little as he anticipated what “adventures” will come from their relationship. She was just a prospect in those days, after that engagement she later became his Bottom in the trafficking ring. That was what she wanted, that was what he wanted. He tried to force me to do it but my other handler stepped in and helped prevent it. “She has another destiny” he would always say. He HATED having him in the way and that was how they became frenemies but he couldn’t separate from him because he was one of the creators of the program. He abused me so many times because I went to my other handler for help and protection against him. “YOU KEEP RUNNING TO YOUR MAN!” He would say. I was so little I didn’t quite know if he was just grooming me or if he truly believed what he was saying. It took several years for me to see that this grown man, a genius, truly believed such irrational things. “He’s not my man. He’s old and I’m a little girl. I don’t want to be around him, he’s forcing me to do things I don’t want to do. He’s trapping and abusing me too, you all are. I don’t want any of this!” I constantly had to point out to him. “WHAT DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH IT!” He would scream every time, I learned not to bother with that point anymore. He hated when I criticized pedophilia. Even years later “if it weren’t for your man things would be different between us”. He was always so bitter that I sometimes was able to advocate for my rights, and in exchange for submission, they all granted them. Literally, I had to crawl, beg, plead, and do the most disgusting things just to maneuver some wriggle room that would eventually, decades later, help me break free. But people think victims are lying about not being able to get away.
He found her to replace me as his Bottom in the ring when I refused and I couldn’t have been happier about it! To them, they each had their own agenda in that exchange, but I also had my own. I got what I wanted by telling the truth, standing up for myself, and not allowing them to take control in that decision-making moment. I learned how to wriggle and I kept adapting. To him that was training, to me it was hell. This is how he raised me.
She’s in prison, she should NEVER be let out! They have plans, history, agendas, tricks, tech, money, you name it they have it. Their story is not over and the world would be foolish to think it is!
I am more thankful day after day that I survived. It boggles my own mind more so as I let the memories flood in and put language to them. The worst part is knowing that all of this went on with the consent of authority, in plain sight, and with total and complete apathy from all involved. The world is only starting to see the tiny tip of the ice burg of what they created, the worst is yet to come.
If I never make it beyond this point, my achievements in life have been such that I don’t have to feel shame or regret. He wanted to take away my ability to experience life beyond him, I found creative ways to do it. He abused me for it, but if you are going to actually be you then you have to take a stand. I had to pick my battles, all my life it’s been constant attack after attack. But I made sure I left my mark, this no one can EVER take away from me!
The truth will always be. I deserved better, I always did. Everyone made choices, well so did I. Long ago in that horrible dark, dank basements of those bases I promised myself I would break free, tell the truth, and free everyone else. I promised that I would bring down that ring and all who maintain it. I don’t lie to anyone, but I damn sure will never lie to myself.
YOU may not be able to understand me, who I am, what I do, why I do the things I do. But you don’t need to in order for me to accomplish my goals. What you need to do, is tell the truth.
You can redact my life, scrub my existence, reframe my narrative, coopt my essence to copy and paste onto copycats who can’t hold the flame to my candle. But the truth will always be.