KILLUMINATI

Chapter 1 (Intro)

I met the devil... well I heard his voice, it was everywhere, in the water running in my bathroom, in the sound of dollar bills rubbing against each other, behind the lyrics of my favorite songs, hidden as backround voices in my favorite tv shows. Soon enough my world had changed for the worst, and my life as I knew it had taken a tragic turn.

Every morning when I opened my window I heard the same man and woman speaking by my window, like I was part of a simulation. Always the same two voices. Soon enough their voices started slowly driving me insane, every time I heard it I would feel like I would hear the voices of my abusers and would suffer the abuse all over again, and I think they liked having that power over me. These people were sadistic, and from the informations I'd gathered, they hated my family. My dad had been in power for a long time, he was an African leader. Europeans liked to mingle with African politics and I knew I was being manipulated day and night like I'd been for over a year. That had led me to self distruct and slowly kill myself again and again, daily. I constantly felt watched unable to turn their negative comments off, not when I pissed, not when I ate, not even when I showered. To many people this story seemed unbelievable but to me I was most definetly under surveillance. At first I wanted it to stop then I realized the more I would wish for it to stop, the more it never will, I will always end up disappointed, as they waited for my downfall, a heart attack, immediate death, suicide, psychosis anything that would humiliate their arch nemesis who happened to be my dad.

The people spying on me were nobody else but the all powerful, secret society who were now passing themselves as dead: the Illuminatis. Yet they claimed that dark title as if it was a superpower as their voices tormented me day and night for months and months in this eerie place they called a hotel. Stuck in this dark story that was now my life I tried my best to stay afloat, but the truth is I was slowly sinking. And if I did not get saved soon, I would drown. Pathetically, quickly and irrevocably. Or I would end up in an even worst predicament. I was sure these master manipulators had more than a single trick under their sleeves. My fear for the future kept me caged like a slave, I barely went out, I used often, I lived in fear, they were enabling my addiction my environment was downright killing me, and I was letting it. One day it might turn out I'd be buried, and these people would happily dance on my grave calling me what they'd always called me while their cars passed by my windows, insults I should not care about but did, slurs no one paid attention to but I. My life had turned into nightmare. I could victimise myself all day long but the truth was how and when did I become powerful enough to captivate their attention ? And why was it now me against the world ? And even if tomorrow they rewrite history as I know they will, what I lived and what I went through was torture and I know I would be rewarded and that no bad deed will ever go unpunished.