Author : Judy Byington
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Hmm… I remember Dr. Green and the drugs, sexual and tremendous physical and physic abuse but the doc was always miffed that the electric shock treatments never effected me but what I remember most was that the abuse from my real parents was so traumatic, what Green did was like play time. Of course between my parents and Green [and still without a split personality] I am the most dangerous assassin in the world. One time after an incident [giggle] the Deputies nicknamed me Rottweiler [go figure that!]. Would love to get a position protecting Trump, taking out his assassins would be pure joy. But because of who and what I am [and how I got this way] that job of joy will never see me. Can you even imagine those boneheads putting me on an FBI terrorist watch list when I was 14 years old? Green must had a fit [giggle]. Think I was Green’s favorite (made him throw up once) [giggle].
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Bye Ms Byington.
I have heard and seen all I need. You don’t have to tell me or show me twice……
Heard all of this so many times it’s ridiculous.
You have no idea what I know.
So how long has this been pushed back now?
COLLECT your information. Don’t judge people for questioning Babylons’ financial dealings and decisions with us scum of the earth.
After my “brainwashing”, I remember being on the porch and Grandma coming to the screen door, opening it, and saying, “Marty! You’ve been gone for two weeks! Where have you been?” I don’t think she was supposed to say that, cause I heard a guy from behind me say, “Were just bringing him back from summer camp.”
I don’t know what they did to my head, but I was very jittery and nervous. I wouldn’t go outside. I would run to my room if someone knocked. One of the few times when I walked with Grandma to the corner store, I saw some Black people. I almost knocked her down, pulling on her arm, urging her to walk faster. A 14 year old. Hiding behind his Grandmother! I know one thing those mind f*ck*rs did. I was terrified of Black people. I missed most of the first part of 8th grade, ’cause I was too frightened to go to school. Looking back though, if I did what they all said I did, then I guess I deserved it, even though I had no memory. And I guess the subject of whatever they put in that first glass of “moonshine” that tasted like water, and was actually something very potent stirred into it.
All that was a kinda prehistory for the “revelation” I’ve had. What would you do if someone walked by you, a total stranger, and said Hello, followed by your name? Wouldn’t it kinda freak you out a bit? What if it happened again, but with a different stranger? Wouldn’t you be like, WTF is going on?
Since ’97, the same has happened to me, hundreds and hundreds of times. Do you know how many times, and in different states, I’ve heard, “Everybody knows Marty!”?
My revelation? It’s happening because they DO know me, or of me. It’s because everywhere I’ve been, everywhere I’ve ever settled, the people in the surrounding area were all “warned” about me.
I’m not just talking about the “gangstalkers”. They’re hired to do what they do. I’m talking about the citizens in the surrounding area everywhere I go!
Let me go back a bit, again, sorry. The following is a memory that I’ve always had. One that wasn’t erased or messed with. I wake up on Grandma’s couch, and I hear a commotion. I look over, and my brother’s are hugging Dad, who’s standing at the front door. I immediately jumped up and run to Dad, giving him a big hug.
He’d been stationed in Germany and we hadn’t seen him in years. Here’s the problem with this whole scenario. In the past, during the four tours in ‘Nam, he’d come stateside sometimes, had been wounded. And Grandma would tell us kids that Dad was coming home for a little while, we couldn’t wait. And everytime, I mean everytime, he showed up at the door, we’d rush to him, and literally jump all over him.
The thousand dollar question is: Why on earth would I take a nap, knowing that Dad was coming? And looking back, when I woke up, I can sense people behind me watching the whole scenario. My thoughts? I had been “under”, and they were prepping me, trying up loose ends inside my head.
Anyways, Dad shows up, says he’s there to pick us up, that he’s stationed at Ft. Leonard Wood MO, and we were coming to live with him. I know now that Dad was there cause of everything that had transpired, and my poor Grandma couldn’t handle it, and the town wanted rid of me. So we move on base, I go to school and finished out 8th grade, and I remember the summer. I don’t remember anything about 9th grade, except having to take makeup test so I’d pass 9th grade. By that time we had moved to a little town right near the base, and I remember Dad dropping me off at the school, warning me that I’d better pass. Something strange about that. I never had a problem with school. I’d always made above average scores. So I must have missed some school days.
Ok. Here’s what I got. Some people,or organization had informed everyone, of what had occurred in Illinois. And the people were extremely worried about me, thought maybe I’d have a relapse, and go psycho. There was someone, someone I don’t have a clear picture of, but it was someone who had a lot of power, and sway, that was telling everyone that I was a good kid. I’m now pretty sure who that very powerful and dangerous person was. I guess the town council got together, and okay’d my living in the area on one condition. I had to receive some kind of punishment. I was informed of said punishment, and told it was the only way. I at first said no. That I’d run away and live on my own. I was informed that anywhere I went,no matter what state it was, they’d make sure the same would happen.They even drew up a document which I signed.
So what did I agree to? They wanted me to spend a certain amount of time in one of MO’s prisons, where the prisoners would decide, and they were to have strict orders not to take my life, or cripple me in any way.
The day arrived, and I was standing outside, and could see through the plexiglass, a bunch of inmates, mostly Black. A guard told me to strip. I complied. Then he handed me something and told me to put it on. I held it up. I was a black satin nightie. I said, I’m not wearing this. He said, “Oh yes you are.” So I put it on, and it was a little too long, making it hard to walk in.
They put me in there, a skinny fourteen year old White boy, walked straight up to the big crowd of Black guys, and swung at one of them and missed, of course.
I was promptly beat about half to death, and then gang raped by those Stinking, Black, Faggots, all night until the next morning.
I’m positive everything was caught on tape. The next morning I’m standing, beaten to a pulp, next to a table that a big Black guy had just sat down, and he tossed me clothes, and told me to sit down. I hesitated cause my ass hurt so damn bad, and he said, “I said sit down!”
I managed to sit if I leaned the right way. He said I had two choices. One, I could be beaten down and gang raped the whole time I was there, or it could be just one guy every night. Said it was my choice. I chose the latter.
So that’s how it went. Passed around until the agreed upon came. Days, weeks? I don’t remember.
Later, when Dad had gotten into my head, it was discovered that I’d been gang raped the same way in Illinois. He was pretty mad.
I had to have went through another round of “forgetting”. No idea who did that. But what of my “benefactor”? Who was this person? Could it maybe have been a former Director of the CIA? A soon to be Vice President?
In truth, I think the same person that had been standing up for me, was the same who was in charge of everyone being informed about me. Cause I remember “jobs” I’ve done, and I think the whole gang rape thing was implemented into my Delta programming.
I remember a dark night, and the sound of a big plane overhead, then I heard a sound like a loud BOOSH! I could see the red of whatever it was traveling in a straight path going up and forward. I heard a guy say, “It’s gonna fly right past it!” I could only make out the lights of the aircraft, then after a certain height, the red whatever it was, banked a hard left and went straight for the lights of the plane. There was an explosion, and then a couple more, then just a huge fireball, falling. I have no idea where that was in this world, or my part in it. I just know I was watching it.
After the Missouri gangrape ordeal, I remember sitting in a courtroom, my behind still hurting. When the judge had asked if the defendant have anything he’d like to say. I stood up and said, “Yes your Honor, I have something to say. I demand an apology from everyone in this town, for what I’ve been through, thinking that I could ever do such a thing!”
He looks at the prosecutor and asked, “Is this guy for real?” He said if I had any problems with it, then he could stick me right back in there. My lawyer stood up and said, “My apologies for my defendant, your Honor. He’s been through a lot and is obviously not thinking clearly.” Then he told me to apologize to the judge, now. I was seething, but I apologized for my ungrateful behavior. Later, probably the same day, I’m sitting and my Dad is standing to my left, and the judge, still in his black robes, is there. He’d asked me a question, and I guess I smarted off, cause my hit me and yelled at me, and told me to apologize. I told the judge I was sorry. And my Dad yelled even louder, “You say I’m sorry Sir!” So I did.
Then the judge closed the briefcase that was on the dining room table, and a lot of money inside.
He asked my dad something. Gets kinda hazy here. He asked him when I about when I I might get my memory back, and my Dad said probably around the 2,000s. Then the judge did some figuring im his head and said, “Hell, I’ll be dead by then! So I’m not worried about it you coming back to kill me. I won’t be here!” He chuckled. Then he ask my dad, “May I!?” Sure. Go ahead. He then hit me with a right cross. Then left.
Ny weekly Pretty! This has been a really wonderful post. Many thanks for providing these details.
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City of London needs to fall and all assets seized