Monday, September 23, 2013

Edward Lee Howard and Torture of U.S. Citizens by U.S. (15)

I am starting off here, with things I remembered that were triggered by reading E.H.'s "Safe House" and from where I left off on the last post, I mentioned Carol and Mike Middleton and my parents collaborating to torture and abuse me as a kid.

Before explaining more of the abuse with dunce hats, electrocution, and sodomy with light bulbs and generators, I will divulge where I saw my Dad and Mike at the same time.

The only time I saw them together in the workplace was at an air flight control tower.  Both of them molested me at their residences and both Carol and my Mom knew their husbands molested me and were present when it happened.

As I've explained, I was taken on international flights all the time, and they were to London, the U.S., and we went to Canada often enough some of the flights may have been from there, but some were from the U.S. military airport too.  Additionally, I remember private helicopter landings and private plane runways.

I was given a tour of the flight tower with my Dad and Mike both there, and I sometimes went to "work" with Mike and was behind the controls and saw what he did, when it was just me and him.  Mike came home to where he and Carol lived a few times and would say "I'm taking her to work" and I would go with him to a flight tower he worked at.

So out of all the "towers" I've been in, one was a flight traffic control tower, and a decade later or less, they were all trying to kill me from a lighthouse look-out tower and then a fire station tower.  I actually was behind controls (motherboard) for the air traffic tower in a huge airport in London, and in Moses Lake, Washington as well.  With Mike Middleton in London, and with my Dad in Moses Lake Air Force Larsen base, and then I saw them intersect at a tower one time.  It was not a total secret I was around because several employees saw me at both places, in both England and in the U.S.  All of the people in England at the flight traffic control center had British accents and all the ones in the U.S. had American accents. 

For the private planes, there is a runway at the Colorado airport that reminded me a lot of one.  It was straight and next to open field, but not connected to an airport and then the helicopters could take off from almost anywhere, including the ceilings of hospitals, military bases or airports, mountains, mid-air, and if there wasn't enough room for them to land we had to climb a rope ladder or be hoisted up while it hovered.  This is outside of specific times of parachute jump training or being flown to a hospital for a medical reason.

There was an arched stone driveway covered with Ivy at the Thebaults house I was later at, in Bedminster, NJ, that reminded me of one of the England residences I was at.

Mike Middleton always took a thick standard size coffee mug to work, and later when my Dad took me to a tower, he did the same, or would take a thermos.  I also remember being in Mike's car and noticing how English cars in England were different from American ones or driving. there.  I remember the highway speed limit was also much faster.  I used to say my parents were driving too slow because I remembered faster driving on the freeways in the UK.  There was a speed limit difference in the law, at the time of maybe 10 mph or so.

I remember a man from Canada airports as well, but I'm not sure if his name was Mike or Bruce or something.

The English accented Mike, and my Dad, and another guy were called "The Three Muskateers".  It was possibly used to refer to another group of men later, but I remember it as being derived from "Mickey Mouse" and instead of "Mousekateers" they called themselves Muskateers, maybe because they were probably all hit men.

I remember seeing Mike Middleton with guns.  His "gun training" with royals later was not, like, the first time he was around guns.  He was also involved with training me for "brake failure".  What I mean by this, is Mike Middleton was one of the participants who was involved in coaching me to drive, in order to have an "accident" later by programmed "brake failure" and using one pedal instead of the other one.  He also deliberately spilled hot coffee onto me in his car, from his mug, onto my left side, to induce the same kind of panic reaction the others were after, by scaring me and doing some kind of assault to my left side of my body.

It's funny when a royal marries his mother's killer huh?  ha.-STOP- ha.  They're all killers and all trained to do the same things and they all sexually abused me in front of their own wives, and tortured me.

My Dad told me to go outside and start blowing bubbles on the porch, with my bubble wand, when Gary Middleton came to our house years later and he smirked because it must have been a great joke between them all.  He knew Carol had done more than "burst" my bubble.  She was terrorizing me at her house and even breaking light bulbs to do it, among other things with magnets.  They did horrible, horrible things to me and then my parents would do the same, sort of doubling-up on their efforts or trying to conceal for them who did what when or first.  I am pretty sure one of the coffins I was made to lie in and be photographed in was at their house in their basement but I'm not positive.  I think so.

I haven't even mentioned the horrific things they did with magnets.  I mean, they did it all.

I always got sick from the smell of coffee in the car with my parents because the Mike who drove me around who had coffee in the car, was doing other things with technology while he drove.  I always felt sick, the few times I wasn't talking.  I remember one of his cups was a Mickey Mouse cartoon on it or just said "Mikey" or "Mickey".  It was on one of his mugs.  I said something about it out loud and that's when he spilled it on me and told me to shut up and quit talking. 

I remember driving on the right side of the road, and how much faster the traffic was.  The cars I remember with Mike Middleton were all sort of luxury mid-sized cars.  I remember learning some of the driving in a classic car because the steering wheel was classic car sized. 

When he took me to work I think sometimes he was taking me to the flight tower and other times to a military base in England.  I am not sure but he had to show a pass and it was a guarded security gate.  In the U.S., with my parents, they had me go to the same type of thing, and past a "station" of sorts where you had to show a pass or know the code, but it was not as tight of security.  The other place, in London or wherever, was extremely heavily guarded and I don't remember tons of people smiling.

After we were inside the gated area, Mike put his hand, palm down, on a machine, and then it let him in.  It was either a thumb or a palm and he had to look into something for an eye scan.  I used to think it was my Dad I was with when he did this, but since it was in England, I believe, I think it was British Mike.  There were white doors and they opened automatically like sliding doors that opened up, after you passed the scan.  It was done every single time anyone entered that place.  It wasn't once or twice, or an option.  It was the only way to go in.  I remember wanting to do it too and at one point, they took my thumb or hand ID as well.  They had ID stats on me when I was a baby basically and I was carried in.  I wasn't walking when they were first taking me there and then later I think I was but I was usually picked up and held and then going in with him.  At some point, I went there with my Mom because I remember her doing an eye scan.  I also remember her placing her hand over something as well and always looking at her hand when she did because I was curious.   When I was older, they let me hit some kind of button after the hand and eye scan, to go in.  I remember there was a wide hall that the doors opened up to and I don't remember any windows.

Skipping over to another "site", and then I'll go back to that, is I was taken someplace in the Middle East where it was either Muslims or Jews around us.  It didn't seem to be the U.S. or England.  I actually remember the flight over and I think it was to Jordan or another Middle East place but I remember someone saying something about the name.  I said why is it taking so long?  Because the international flights to England were not that long and they said this place was further away.

I just did a quick check and it says it's about 7,000 km from Washington state to England and about 11,000 km from Washington state to Jordan.

So it's approximately what I remember. 

I got beaten up and assaulted there. It was a major terrorist operation.  I do not mean slightly terrorist.  It was a full-blown terrorist operation and yet, not much different from what I saw at Carol and Mike's personal residence or my own either.  I mean, it wasn't that big of a deal to them.  There were people speaking foreign languages I did not know and it was either Arabic or Israeli.  It wasn't the Spanish I knew from my Aunt Locklyn's house, not to say no one Spanish was there, but there were some possibly Irish, English, Americans, and some Middle Eastern group there.  I would have to think about that part more but I remember there were people there who were very different looking from what I was usually around. 

We were held hostage in some kind of "arched doorway" place.  On the way over, women were wearing the Muslim dress.  Anyone could have been on the plane I suppose but I think it was a small to mid-size private type of plane.  I remember one of the women who seemed Muslim, with a larger figure and as being sort of motherly.  She wanted me to sit by her so I did.  I kept asking my Mom later why they were wearing that kind of black dress and I think my Mom wore one or something very modest like it, for going there for some reason.  I am probably wrong, but I think when I was sitting next to the Muslim woman in the black dress, I was wearing a white dress.

This may sound even stranger but it slightly possible that on a flight that was this one or a different one I had later, Lady Diana was on it.  I recognized the kind of Muslim dress on women by then and this woman that was possibly Diana, had on a very bright and colorful flower-patterned dress.  Something like a bright mixture of orange, red, pink, and maybe a little violet, on white background flower pattern and to the calf.  I remember my Mom was on that flight.  On one of the flights, my Mom was talking cheerfully to someone and on another flight, she didn't talk hardly at all and on of them, she acted like she didn't want to talk to ME and I didn't know why.  I didn't know why my Mom didn't want to sit next to me either, but that was maybe not her idea, or maybe I was moving around to sit by people that asked me to sit next to them.  I think once I sat next to the Muslim woman instead of her and the Muslim woman sort of smirked over at my Mom and my Mom tried not to cry, but I don't even know that the woman was Muslim, because she could have been Jewish or something in disguise.  I don't know.  No one respected the fact I chose a strange woman over my mother in the seating but I was too young to understand maybe it would hurt feelings or maybe my Mom was tortured if I didn't sit next to her.  I sat next to the Muslim-dressed woman and then at one point my Mom cried as a long slightly hooked nose woman sat next to her and talked and looked at me derisively and my Mom tried not to cry.  She was white, and was not Diana and looked Jewish to me.  Her look to me was as if I was trash and she knew it, because I was giving up the "good chair" to sit by the "Muslim woman". She didn't look sad at all but triumphant and like she hated my guts and I thought, as a kid, "What is HER problem?  Esther Nefarious."  I was given some incentive for sitting next to the other woman and then later, she started pinching me.  I believe she was next to Diana and then my Mom was there.  When we got off, after I'd been pinched, I looked at my Mom's wrists and they were bloody or bruised or something and I realized one of the women had tortured her when she sat there.

Mike Middleton was on the plane to the one flight to Jordan.  When we got to this house, it was like an adobe type of dug-out house or something, with arched doorways and a dirt floor and earthen kinds of walls or something but there was some kind of rafter system because my Mom's hands were tied up in sheets and she was forced to stand there with her arms hanging up above her.  We were also chained at the ankles with bracets that went around the ankle and a chain connected to the wall.  I could move around, but the chain was always there, and my Mom was chained too.  She was mostly being forced into pressure positions.  For example, positions that might not be bad for a few minutes, but after hours or all day, it's very painful.  So when she was tied to have her arms up so long, it was for a very long time.

They brought me food but then they weren't bringing as much food anymore, and I was getting extremely hungry.  I heard screaming now and then from another room.  I didn't see my Dad at all, because they didn't bring him back into the room where my Mom and I were maybe out of a sex segregation.  I don't think my brother was born yet or if so, he was babysat in the U.S. because he wasn't there at all.

I could hear men shouting and screaming but I never saw my Dad.  I heard crying, and all kinds of horrific sounds.  It is really horrible to hear a man crying and I didn't know who it was.  There was punching, because I heard people punching, and the guttural sounds from being punched; slaps like face slapping; what sounded like breaking bones; and then they were untying my Mom and taking her back there and then it would be her for hours.  When they brought her back, every time they did, she was half-unconscious and I was told "She's tired" or "She's sleeping".  She was basically non-responsive and then a few times she'd come back, lie on the mat and cry with tears down her face.  She sometimes sat there and prayed.

For me, they just started starving me.  It was big plates of good Middle Eastern food at first, and then less and less, and down to nothing and my Mom shared some of hers with me.  Then, while they were torturing my Mom I do remember one emotion aside from fear that I had and it was guilt.  I felt guilty like it was my fault somehow but I was really hungry.  I started feeling guilty for eating her food, but I didn't know what else to do.  I had no toys or anything, although yes, I do remember they did give me a doll.  They asked me if I would like to have a toy and gave me a nice doll.  A baby doll.  I think they gave me a bassinet for the doll for awhile and a few times they let me put it in a doll stroller and walk around a little pushing the doll.  I remember being very happy about the doll actually.  I sang some songs which they also noticed.  They were surprised I could sing.  I think my Mom wanted me to be quiet because she kept putting a finger over her lips saying, "Shhh".  For a while they wanted me to sing louder so some man could hear me while he was tortured. 

I kept saying "I'm HUNGRY!"  because finally after many days and nights, I was very hungry and maybe starving.  I don't know.  I knew I shouldn't eat my Mom's food because then she wouldn't have any, but she kept offering it to me so I did and then she started keeping some for herself.  Like some rice or something.  She ate to the side like she was famished, and I never saw her eat that fast.  The more I saw her eating and I was hungry the more I finally kept saying I was hungry and then one of the men blew up and said, "You're HUNGRY?!!!" and grabbed me to go to the torture room.  He was furious that I was saying I was hungry when my Mom was "suffering" and the men in the room went nuts, just looking.  There was a table in the middle of the room that was up high, like an "island". It was a metal kind of table about 4 feet high with a flat surface and then across from it, I saw a man seated who looked at me in horror.  The man shouted, "If you're hungry you can eat your DAD."  It was my Dad who said this, Robert Guy Garrett, and Mike was there and they pushed me at some other man against the wall.  I was totally confused and thought, "Why are they saying that man over there is my Dad?"

I looked at my Dad who had been raising me and then at Mike Middleton, and they were both standing side by side.  Then this man to the side named Patrick or Sean sneered and said, "You're eating your mother's food?" before they said I could eat my Dad.  There was a Tom or Tommy, a Patrick, Sean, Mike Middleton, my Dad, maybe a Middle Eastern looking man or two (not all there at that time but who had been seen back and forth by me), and this other man across the room who was maybe Edward Howard, and who seemed to be the only one shocked but who knows, and he had a brown suit jacket on, or something brown colored like a sportcoat, and in the yelling and shouting in my ear, I blurted out, "But that's not my Dad, you ar...." I said something indicating I thought they were wrong about something and made a mistake and then they threw me on the table and they did everything to me.  One of them had McDonald's cherry pies with him or something, and they had burgers and fries and they threw the fries on me and yelled, "There.  Are you happy now?!"  Then they burned me with hot cherry pies from the McDonalds cartons they were in, and smashed them on my skin, and smashed burgers on me.  Then they punched me, hit me, sodomized me with some kind of a pole, and all of them just pounced on me, yelling, "Are you happy now?! Huh?!  Huh?!"  They were tearing off my clothes, smashing food all over me and they beat me up, started eating food off of my body, sodomized me with a foreign object and had knives and at that point, of being sodomized, I passed out.

So as E.H. writes at the end of his book "they made a meal out of me" and I don't think "Happy Meals" were even on the menu at that time but someone got the idea to introduce them, with a "toy" for kids, just like Mike Middleton gave me a "doll".  I got a "happy meal" sodomization and beating and a "toy".  When I checked to find out when "Happy Meals" were introduced, it was in 1979.  According to something someone wrote there, some people in England didn't want McDonalds, with employees accusing them of funding the IRA (Irish Republican Army) and then someone made a comment from New Zealand that they "never saw a more dead than alive hole in my life". 

So when Chris Dabney, who works for the U.S. government and draws his paycheck from them, and was friends with Irish Mark who worked for FBI and Army, and all of them are raping me again later and making fun of the history with Chris saying, "Here's another one in the hole", he wasn't "accidentally" raping me.  And he knew Alvaro Pardo so all of them were all on the same "false flag" team.

So then of course, when the Irish IRA and Northern Irish people are all getting together with the Jews for Katie Middleton's "wedding", they're all giving Mike Middleton and my Dad, and others who abused me and tortured me a nice helping hand and both sides are ensuring rewards and bonus pay to the other.  I'm sure that's what Diana meant when she said she wanted to figure out the Irish-English conflict.

England has some major, major, problems on their hands. 

So then when I have been followed, persecuted, and defamed my entire life and oppressed, to keep me down so these criminals don't get caught, when I went to Canada with my son for political asylum, what did they give me in their immigration detention facility?  McDonalds.  It was a "special treat".  I am absolutely positive the symbolism was not lost on some of the people there, who were possibly shocked by it.

I remember everything they said and did to me up to the point where they furiously threw me over on the table after dumping food all over me, punching me and tearing my clothes off and eating off of me, to where they flipped me over so I was on my stomach and they sodomized me and they pushed something onto my lower back and I can't remember right now what but something electrocuting, hot, or cutting, something bad while sodomizing me and I just blacked out.  No one gave me drugs or a painkiller--I blacked out because of the pain.

So when I later have someone like Robin Bechtold, plotting with my Dad and Middleton to murder me, along with a lot of other low-lifes, in 1992, I know he's getting some of his "passes" from cops and the U.S. and his brother was going back and forth to Northern Ireland.

So SHE is worth it?

Are you kidding me?  You did all of that for Kate Middleton?  That is really something else.  What's her kid's acronyms?  GALMM?  It's sort of like DALMM as in Doll Mike Middleton, a nice toy from the Happy Meal hit men.  You can be 100% sure that "public" kid is not the only one with her biological genes out there because my guess is one is in the U.S. and there is NO way someone like Middletons or Bechtolds or any of these torturers and murderers are going to have all their kids out "in the open" knowing themselves what they've done, and how taking part in crime means you assume the risk of retaliation.

It will be avenged.  God will avenge.

And you can see why my son was tortured from birth and feared for his intelligence.  None of these "official criminals" want to see a kid raised up to make more money than them, succeed above and beyond them, and overshadow their criminal camps.  I don't mean in an "angelic" sense.  I mean, this country and England and Mossad and any other group involved in what they've done to me, have spent billions on harming and defaming me to cover for one disgusting and aggregious crime after the other, against me.  They just kept adding things on.

So when my Dad is singing to me, before someone tries another vehicular homicide against me, "Don't Worry, Be Happy" is he signaling to those who hear through surveillance that they can go ahead and go for that "Happy Million?"  or is it to say, okay, the Middleton hit is on.  ..."Somebody came and took your bed...but don't worry/be happy..."  The rest of it is filled with a bunch of people singing "cuckoo!  cuckoo!" 

Real nice.  So this is just a TINY bit (no pun intended) about how Katie Middleton got to where she is, and which groups have a bona fide interest.

I did turn around right before they electrocuted me with something to my lower back.  I looked back and saw who it was that did that part.

The reason I think it was really in Jordan is because 1. the plane or something on it said something about Jordan, 2. It was a longer flight than the flights to London, 3. Someone chose to have Katie Middleton raised there, and 4.  My parents are connected to government and Middletons so all of it is connected and would feasibly have been in Jordan.  I am not sure that this part ever happened but I think possibly I walked outside of there into the town or something, with someone wearing a gown and face covering.  It is also possible we went to the Dead Sea.  Which would be another place I think unless it extends to Jordan.  I was taken to Soap Lake when I was older, when my Grandpa Garrett lived there, and I remember I said, "But you can't float in this water!"  We visited Salt Lake possibly once too and I said the same thing.  I remember floating in the Dead Sea or in a body of water that was salty and caused people to be able to float without being on your back.  So as far as I know, that's the Dead Sea and I remember being told about the Dead Sea.  I think in California there is a "Death Valley" or something, that an Irish group used for a song maybe, but I don't remember being there, just in the Dead Sea.

So it's like some horrific Mossad-IRA weird MK Ultra terrorism.

Yeah, so I just looked up anything about Jordan and the Dead Sea and I don't see that it's possible to float from there so I was definitely in the Dead Sea.    That implies Israel and then Jordan.  When I went to the Dead Sea, I don't remember wearing a swimsuit but full clothes.  We walked in with clothes on and I don't remember my Mom there, just my Dad.  My Dad floated and I floated and it was more like my Dad took me there one day, and my Mom stayed at the house.  So it must have been a helicopter from Jordan to Israel one day or something else.  I remember spending 2-3 days with my Dad in an apartment and going to the Dead Sea on one of those days.  It was not the ground floor but an upstairs apartment.

In that case, I was all over the place.  I could say I was in London, probably Scotland, Israel, Jordan, Canada, as a kid.  There are probably other places I went to but these are the ones with markers that stand out right away.

For all of the trafficking of me by this country, and their abuse and official rape/molestation/torture/defamation/sodomy/oppression I am surprised someone thought it was "too much" to let me live a normal life and raise my own son.  This country had me raising their federal employees kids, as a babysitter and nanny from 1985-2003.  That is almost 2 decades of full or part-time employment working with kids, but this country kidnapped my own son from me.

I wonder why.

Can anyone tell me why?  Please explain to me, why the U.S. and Canada would be motivated to kidnap my son from me, after what they've used me for this long?  Short-staffed on the Air Force One Pedophilia Offerings?  Royal Offerings?

What I remember is leaving an underground place, like a house with arched doorways and everything, and walking out into a village type of town, and then getting an apartment in a second-story or higher building and then we walked out and my Dad didn't look happy about it but said to go with him into the Dead Sea.  It was pretty much like someone told him to do this and I have to say, I do remember being with my Mom one place and then an apartment and Dead Sea, but I am not sure if the attack and being held hostage was before or after the Dead Sea.  It was either a preparation for what was to come, or where we went next.  So we walked in with our clothes on and then I helped my Dad pack his suitcase. 

I always wanted to help so I packed my parent's suitcases at home and I had helped some royals pack before that, but I always helped my parents.  They were packing a suitcase 1-2 times a week.  It was constant travel, and I remember being on planes much more than in cars for the first part of my life.  I do remember being in cars as well, and on subways (not often), trains (there was a huge wreck with one--a fatal collision), and the ferry and I don't think the ferry has portholes and private rooms and I was in a boat room with a porthole and everything so I was also on a ship or yacht.  My parents traveled even more than I did.  They were constantly on the go.  Like I said, it was unpacking a suitcase at least once a week and then packing another one again.  Sometimes 2-3 times a week but usually more like once a week, and occasionally with a break of maybe 2 weeks. 

I packed Charles' suitcase once, Prince Charles.  He was very particular but actually, I think my Dad was even moreso.  My Dad packed like a total perfectionist and I have never, in my life, seen such a tightly packed suitcase.  Not just tight--extremely orderly.  Even more, visually attractive, and weight even and practical.  I mean, if you wanted to see the inside of a brain's workings, there you would have one small clue.

I don't know about how someone keeps their room or house all the time, because conditions can alter and skew things.  But the way someone packs a bag tells a lot about their personality.  I think a grown-up once told me that and I never forgot it because it really made sense to me.

My Mom was fussy over it and my Dad packed like he'd been doing military corners on a bed his whole life.  Prince Charles didn't pack a ton for his trips, from what I remember.  I know I heard someone say he always traveled with a teddy bear and I don't completely remember it but it's possible I do and that's why I got my brother a "tubby bear" that sucked its thumb.  I packed a woman's bag too but I don't know who, but she was all about her hairdryer.

I think after I was sodomized and abused and smashed down with food at the Israel or Jordan place, is when I next was told to go to the casket or coffin and they took photos of me in a coffin.  They told me to keep my eyes open and had a man's suit in there, and papers, and took snapshots.  I kept trying to close my eyes because I thought I was supposed to and they kept flashing the light in my eyes.  They did a couple of things.  For one thing, they had an eye-check of my eyes in there.  So that was one light.  Then they had the flash from the cameras, which was another light.  And then on top of that some other type of more powerful flash that I wasn't sure was from the camera but it was so bright I closed my eyes.  Every time I closed my eyes they said, "Open your eyes.  Keep your eyes open." I would say, "But it's bright.  The light is in my eyes" and instinctively I'd close my eyes again.  They tested me with different lights and distances.  One of the lights was a large circular kind of shop light.  It was like the type you see at model shoots, where you might have a screen and then they have this large very bright round light for spot lighting, and this one was flashed at me.

After they flashed the large light at me, more than once, I passed out.  I am pretty sure I was given an injection because there was a doctor of some kind there and I was asking questions about it out loud and then the large light blinded me or something was different about it and then this woman came up to me with a mean face and an injection and injected me from my left side.

So, for example, if I'm in a basement in a coffin, and it's set on the ground and the head of it is E of the computer screen, feet W, my right side N and my left side S, she approached me from the S side.  The people photographing me with a camera flash were behind my head and sort of NE at an angle.  They were at the NE behind my head and at the SE but mostly I remember NE and that's where the man with the larger light was.   So, this doctor woman approached me from the S side, and shone a light into my eyes checking dilation and whatever.  Then, the camera flash was from behind my head but sort of like they're looking over my shoulders and then the man came over with a large flash and then this woman looked mean and stabbed at me and I was unconscious.  I don't remember getting out of the coffin or being helped out.  I was probably carried out.  Basically, as this mean man loomed over me with the flash and then another woman with a camera flash at my other shoulder, the other woman approached my left side and showed me a weapon, and just as I panicked, knocked me out with drugs.  I thought the woman and man, besides my Mom being there, looked like Alan and Tammy Springer but it wasn't in their basement because they didn't have one like that.  The woman also looked like Carol Middleton.  At that time--brunette with shoulder-length hair and same type of build and face.  It was sort of weird because first of all I was nervous or scared about why a man's suit was in there and why I was lying on it with "papers", and then I was scared when they put on this mean look after acting sort of casual and cooperative about everything, and then of course, panic with seeing the weapon and then I was out like a light.  The other thing was that they discussed contracts there.  They were talking about how the "contract" could not be broken except by death.  I didn't know whose contract they were talking about but they were saying it wasn't permissible or legal or possible to break the contract unless there was a death because of some vow or contract or something or other.  One of them said, "Can't it be broken?  why can't this one be broken and a new contract made?" and the other said, "It's not possible.  It's binding unless there is a death."  So I was lying there thinking, "What's not possible?!  What contract?!"  In my child perspective I thought either there is a contract over this man whose suit I'm lying on, or there is a contract about me.  I started thinking, "Is this a good contract someone wants to break to give to someone else?  or a bad contract?  how come they want to kill someone to get rid of the contract?"

I thought maybe it was a betrothal that was binding; a contract of inheritance; a deed; or some government thing.  I wasn't sure but if it wasn't about this man whose suit I was on, I figured it had a powerful significance whether it was known about in court or not. I even thought maybe it's a secret oath or vow from a secret society of some kind.  I had no idea and I still don't know but someone wanted to break it.  So then they had these 2 papers, and one with my name on it and they tore it in half and then they started the light thing and then assaulted me.  I had my eyes closed when I overheard them.  One of them said, "Is she sleeping?" and another one said, "Yes, I think so, she didn't have a nap today" (something like that or a reason why I'd be asleep).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLeM10ZSP-A

Pretty much.  But nightmare "endings"

I am sure I'm not the only one, but I can relate or identify or remember things from several scenes in this music video:  Keep Your Eyes Open.

The horrifying thing, keeping my eyes open was supposed to facilitate my own eventual "brake failure" and panic so someone could ruin my and my son's life and get rid of me.  They trained me for some different things and then did a major dump and decided to figure out how to kill me or have me kill myself the rest of my life.

Taking a slight tangent, to reflect on some of the things from this music video, since it also relates to the E.H. book and things that trigger my memory.  My Mom gave me some kind of secret pin once.  The odd thing is that it sort of even resembles the one in this video.  Then someone stole it but when she gave it to me I was supposed to keep it a secret.  Who knows.  But it had the bird and everything.  Yeah, I was in Blue Birds, but it was some other kind of pin.  I almost want to say Lady Diana gave it to me.  I was asked what kind of jewelry I would want if someone got me something and I saw these pins on her with scarves or on lapels and I said, "A pin!" I can't say for sure it was Diana but it was a woman who I saw frequently who wanted to give me something and she had jewels.  I had forgotten about the pin with all the ring theft stuff, but I remember the ring from Grandma Connie and I do remember a pin from a woman on a private plane but maybe it wasn't a big deal.  It was supposed to be a secret however, and my Mom did tell me to keep it hidden.  I think they thought I was weird.  I'm sure of it, because I had my choice of necklaces, rings, earrings, and was shown some extraordinary jewels and valuables and when I was asked what I would like to have I said, looking at her lapel, "A pin!"  So they all looked shocked.  What do you mean "a pin"?  Just a pin?  I think my Mom maybe tried to remind me now and then by taking a sewing pin out the same way I used to put a crown away for someone, and she would have this ball-point kind of pin in her mouth, but I was told I would have my wish, and she brought me a pin and it looked similar, in some ways, to the one in this music video.  When she said, "Just a pin?" I was asked by someone else who wanted to push the matter, "What about a necklace?  or a ring?"  I am not sure if I saw a book of jewels even when I was asked so someone thought that would be in my mind--I don't remember, but I said no, I wanted a pin.  So I did get a nice pin and then it was stolen later and I didn't lose it.

Other things I remember from this video are the jumping from table to table scene because there was something similar, like an obstacle course up higher.  I was on some obstacle course on the ground too, but there was one up high which required jumping from one thing to another.  I am pretty sure I learned to shoot at targets with both hands and I think I did shoot arrows.  There is one scene where that older man suddenly stands up like he's shocked and it's a little weird because I remember someone doing that with me once, but I don't know what it was over but it was the same kind of set-up.  I did something with abnormally good ability and then another man looked at him as if to say, "What did I tell you?" but said nothing and I knew I had impressed him but I can't remember right now what it was.  It was one thing specifically and I think I did it really fast.  The train scene reminds me of when I was on a train and I should have died, and was expected to die, but I ran out and ran back and when the train collided with another train, I wasn't at the front and didn't die but the others at the front died.  Seriously.  What is really weird is that wreck and train I was on was super-covered-up.  It wasn't like in The Snowball Express where a train just runs out of gas, or stalls, or has a problem and all these people have to get off in the snow and go to a hotel.  It was a major fatal collision and I had been at the front with the engineer.  For some reason, I sensed something was wrong and I ran out and then when the train hit another one, it derailed and there was a fire and we all had to run out.  No one wanted me to talk about it.  I believed people were trying to kill me because I remembered how I was being pushed and pressured to stay up there in the front.  I was in the front to begin with, because the conductor or engineer guy was letting me pretend I drove the train with him and it was a really nice view.  I thought it was very exciting.

Yes.  Yes, it's true.  They had me co-piloting cars, planes, and trains.  Not really ships, but yes to the rest.

So I think I said we weren't on trains much and I don't remember as much as planes but many times, or often enough.  I don't know where we caught them.  There was a train in Moses Lake and also in Cashmere where my grandparents live. I have no idea.  I remember some of the terrain from the windows and after the collision when I would bring up being next to the conductor in the front, she was always trying to say it was the caboose.  I could tell it bothered her to have me say I was in the front of the train.  When I was in front, the train conductor had one seat and then my Dad would be there with me and there was some kind of pedal there.  I was tied to my seat for an impending collision by my Dad.  Basically, there was a kind of box or platform on the floor with a grate of some kind and I think I got ultrasounded or something a few times because I remember pain and I didn't know why.  So it was this foot pedal thing that looked like a grate.  And then there was a train stick or control.  He and this man there were both together on training me and sort of pals.  The one seemed to be as much "in the know" as my Dad and neither seemed to care very much about me but I didn't care because I loved driving anything.  So the day or night of the wreck, can't remember everything because it was over time and then we had to wait around for emergency help to arrive after the fire, this one conductor was assured a money amount.  A sum of money was brought up and where it would go and then my Dad tied my hands with rope to the seat so I couldn't get out.  The man was totally in on it.  I got scared and said why are tying me, but because I was tied so much I was panicked but not in total shock.  Then my Dad left and I couldn't get out and then all of a sudden, at the last minute, I was begging the man, "Pleeaasse, pllleeeasse help me"and I said something like a prayer and asked him if he believed in miracles.  I said sometimes someone else can be part of a miracle or something and he just stared at me and then at the last minute, he cut the ropes from my hands and said, "Run."  So I ran.  The train collided with another train and burst into flames at the front and the conductor died. 

When I wasn't untied at first I just decided to make the best of it and started chatting nicely with him.  He got more and more nervous and he said, "Do you understand, your Dad just did that to you?" and I said "Uh huh" and told him other things that were done to me, to his horror.  Then he said, "Is that really your Dad?" and I said something and he started looking more horrified, and then I started talking about God and miracles and he started looking around, got nervous and said he wasn't going to do this to a little kid.  So he got out a knife and I was petrified because I thought he was going to attack me by cutting me.  Instead, he cut off my ropes and told me to run to the back of the train, so I did.

When my Dad saw me, he went after me and I kept running.  Within a few minutes, the trains that were supposed collide, did collide, and the entire front section burst into flames.  The conductor died and something like 15 or so other people died.  I stayed away from my parents until the emergency people arrived and then we all had to go out in public, with them around, and they were wrapping people up, giving them hot drinks, and emergency care, and then the weird thing was, it was like the event never happened.  At first it was acknowledged I was on the train because it couldn't be disputed and all these people saw me and talked to me, including paramedics.  But then it was that I was in the "caboose" or was "always in the caboose" and then it was "never on trains" and that sort of thing.

It was one time I heard the amount of money discussed right in front of me with the idea it was payment to assist in killing me.  When I was alone with him, he just got wider and wider eyes.  It was a lot of money for him but he let me go.

So the train scene in that music video "Keep Your Eyes Open" reminds me of when I almost died and didn't, because of "a miracle". 

I can't say I like Taylor Swift because I don't really follow her or know anything about her but someone must have tipped her off to something somewhere, but really, so much of my life has been exposed to a lot of people while keeping the information and evidence from me. 

I have a right to raise my own son.  I want my son Oliver returned to me.

I don't see how that train wreck was an "act" either.  People died and I saw the fire and explosion.  My Dad had just sold me to die and so why did I still live with them?  What choices did I have as an abused kid who had been told every person in authority was against me?  Both of those men used to torture me up there in the front of that train.  I had no reason to think the other man would let me go.

When I got off the train, like that woman carrying the luggage in the opening scene, that was how I felt, and here come the paramedics, and I can't believe this all just happened and all these people are around outside and fire and explosions and people just staring.  It was very strange.  The people outside were not just looking at each other--they were looking at me.  There was a group of people who expected me to die.  I didn't even breasts and they wanted to kill me.  I was a prepubescent girl.

The other part of this video is sort of like when the man nods at her to go into the round chamber and then she is pushed up to the ground level.  It is sort of what happened for me.  The other side of that is I also remember being put into round chambers like that and taken down underwater.  Not with the train thing, but I was taken to some kind of Naval base I guess, or station, and put into a chamber.  There was a huge round "hot tub" kind of opening in the ground in this one base.  It could have been anywhere, in the U.S. or England, at a CIA site or a military site, but it was like this compartmentalized room, like a big round room or with some curved walls and white all over.  Like cement painted white or something, I don't know.  So there was this very large hot tub kind of thing in the floor, about the size of a large poolside hot tub or larger and it was sunken, not above ground at all.

It looked like, this room, the inside of a huge huge boiler room, with high ceilings, white all around, and this sunken tub in a round circle in the ground.  So there was a chamber and they put me in and they would sink it and keep lowering it and keep me down there.  Part of it was that I was supposed to hold my breath and they counted or looked at watches or meters to see how long I could go underwater.   It wasn't a one-time thing.  I was going there all the time, and they constantly tested me to see what my times were.  So then I was sometimes going underwater in my bathtub at ...Jo knows all about, by the way, Jo from England military who died.  Anyway, most of the time I tried to please the adults I was around, so I tried to do my best going underwater.  Then, they started beating me down to drown me.  I don't think they were going to fully drown me, but they tortured me.  A man put his boot on top of my head and pushed me down and then I'd come up for air, and they would push me down with their hands.  I couldn't breathe.  It was not like they did this a couple of times.  They fought with pushing me down in the water for 10 minutes or so.

I remember when the train crashed, and I had been expected to die, there was a group of people that couldn't believe I was alive.  One looked like royals I had known, at least one man.  Blond.  He looked like the Count of Wessex and then possibly it was the Mr. and Mrs. Michael of Kent.  Very cool and distant, staring at me and then there was this group of men, and I thought they looked maybe Jewish or something, kind of larger men and fair completed enough with white-Italian-Jewish features.  They were FURIOUS and inwardly seething.  They looked at me like OH SHIT.  They were totally nervous and pacing, but furious at the same time and then didn't want paramedics to even talk to me or know my name or validate I had been there.  There was this very cool sophisticated couple expecting me to die that I recognized as looking like royals I knew, at least this one man, and then this other motley crew group of men, at least 3-5 visibly upset and angry I was alive.  Then some others just staring in shock, silent.  I was purposefully blocked from going to the paramedics to tell them what had just happened by the white Italian and Jewish looking men, and then my Dad grabbed me.

I am pretty positive my pin was stolen to give to Kate Middleton.  Maybe it went to someone else, but based on other things I've "noticed" I think it was stolen from me to give to her as a secret symbol, as if she was always the one entitled to it.

So let's go to how her parents tortured me and colluded with my parents to do it.  In this music video, if you see the radiator heater in the background, I was handcuffed or chained to one of those at the Middletons house.  When I was younger, maybe they just controlled me to the point that I felt paralyzed and too afraid to move, because I remember that.  I remember getting cut, burned, or shocked, if I moved.  At one point they had me partly tied or chained to rungs around a radiator heater and then partly to legs of furniture that were heavy and wouldn't move.  They were tied together, such as, my wrists tied together and then both of them tied to the radiator rung (and that heater did NOT move).  Then my ankles were tied together and then tied to furniture legs of a bed or furniture that was too heavy to move.  Sometimes my feet were on the radiator heater and burning.

Some of the most horrible things they did, as I said, was tell me to suck on lightbulbs without breaking them.  Then I was being burned with them when they were turned on.  Finally, they were being inserted into my rectum (smaller bulbs) and the cord plugged into a generator and the electricity cranked up.  They broke one inside of my rectum.

To me, it's really disturbing to see brand names like Tampax come out with their "latest" after the "pearls" series, of "radiant" tampons.  Because we all want "radiant" tampons don't we?  And here they are advertising light flashing "radiant" tampons and Carol Middleton blew up lightbulbs inside of my rectum.  Which is basically sodomy and electrocution put together.  Then she decided to "scare" me more at one point so she'd get a lightbulb, from a lamp that had a cord you could plug into a generator, or Christmas lights cord, but with her it was mostly lamp lightbulbs, and she and Mike would say horrifying things to me, burn me with them by touching them to my skin while they were hot and then crank up the generator until they burst.  So I had these bursting lightbulbs breaking around me to terrify me.  When they burst in front of me, of course, that in-and-of-itself was not "torture" but it was extremely frightening because she was also burning me with them.

It's sort of why she might be the type that would want to "phase" out incandescent light bulbs in favor of "halogens" and what 'tiara' did Katie Middleton wear for her wedding?  I just found out yesterday, it's called the "halo" tiara, of all things.  Then, Katie chose to wear a "Jenny Packam" dress for showing her kid to the world, knowing her mother and my mother colluded against me and packed light bulbs and magnets into my rectum and other places.

So why in the world are this many companies rewarding such horrific things and forms of human rights violations, by making these odd "brand name" gestures to her?  and glorifying horrendous crimes of pedophilia and torture of children?  I wasn't an adult then.  I was a kid, and that's what she was doing to me.

So like I said, in my last post, take a look at the photo of her with Katie which I posted there, and it's creepy.  She made sure to have a lamp there in a corner and a heater in the other corner when she is guilty of crimes that her entire family participated in. I mean, eventually, when they were born.  Gary Goldsmith was involved too, and smirking when he saw me outside when my Dad specifically told me "Do something for me.  Go outside and blow some bubbles".  So here I was blowing bubbles and they were bursting, and he thought it was a funny reminder of what his sister did to me by terrorizing me with light bulbs until they burst and shattered.  Okay, so now Tampax is coming out with "radiant" tampons?  with a little light glow symbol around a tampon?  It's not a selling point for tampons or menstrual period control to have "radiant" tampons.  It sounds like something someone just thought Katie Middleton and William would think is funny.  So once again, flaunting the fact people have gotten away with crimes against humanity against even children.

There is NO way Katie should be in charge of ANY charity that has Anything to do with children.  It is shocking even when a journalist exposes the fact that Katie and William like to hang out with Uncle Gary and share a ball of cocaine,  and then Carol comes out with PR to try to distance herself from HIM, as if he's the bad guy and she's so "embarrassed".

How many MOTHERS "pack" light bulbs up a little kids rectum and then turn on the light and crank the generator blow them up?  Gen.  Like Jennie.  The Generator Packam family.  That is a great family for kids to be around.  What are you doing Saturday night? 

Katie:  "Oh I don't know.  We were thinking of blowing up some kid's ass and feeding him a little royal Ogilvy.  You in?"

Basically, it's like they come from some heinous sadistic Mossad-Squad that will cut throats to get ahead with the CIA and Army and UK.  I'm not comfortable with the fact some of their Jew friends own orchard property in close proximity to my son because he's been tortured, and they have never known when to quit.  Ever.

Kate Middleton's Dad also showed up when Carol was there with Carol letting him ejaculate on me.  What I remember is a confusing mix of Carol and Mike having me give Mike oral sex, and then giving me lollipops to suck on when they handed me over to my Mom when I was picked up from their house.  They gave me red round ball lollipops and flat round kinds when I was older, and then I would go home and I remember the day my Mom then coached me to give my Dad oral sex right in front of her near our kitchen.  I don't know if it was blackmail material being recorded for someone, or if it was to cover up for Carol and Mike and what Carol had me do with him, but it happened.

This is all, of course, after failed assassination attempts.  I mean, what do you do with a kid that overhears your financing plans to kill you and the hit man decides against it?  Make sure I have a metal bit in my mouth so I can't say anything of course.

My Dad even got blackmailed in Israel so there are lots of Jews eager to use that however they want.  Not to mention Josh Gatov's rapist-Jew choice of going to Thailand on tips from government officials who have done nothing but torture and abuse children.  Why go to Thailand, land of child sex-slaves, unless you're a Jewish rapist who wants to escape and make a reminder to royal and U.S. pedophiles they are just like the Thais?  Gatov wanted to justify and excuse his criminal and violent, premeditated act of rape, by trying to "remind" others they could be blackmailed.  Who decided to visit there right before dying?  Angus Ogilvy, a royal who knows very well about which persons have wanted to kill me.

I remember when we were in Israel in the apartment, my Dad set up a camcorder or knew it was recording and engaged in, or tried to engage in acts with me and then after this, and the Israelis had their "flick" he took me to the Dead Sea. He actually did not seem that thrilled about anything that time.  He acted depressed and resigned to follow someone's sick orders.  I can't say that about all the times, or everything, but I thought something was up, and so guess what?  I'm a kid who has nothing to do with Jews or Israel and they have partially nudie kid flicks to satisfy their egos about me.  They like degrading me and this makes them happy.  Now, how to break that "contract".

Later when Gary Goldsmith came to my house, several years later, and jumped me with my Dad, in my bedroom, on my bed, they said afterwards, "God is dead".  Why were these sickos raping me, torturing and abusing me and then trying to say I was "dead"?  Or having me go to the "Dead Sea" or declaring "God is dead"?  Gary Goldsmith and Carol are Jews and so is Katie.  So when I'm getting beat up and sodomized or tortured by "Goldsmiths" and then getting 2 gold studs put into my ears when I'm 4, I have to wonder what Jewish tree their apes have been swinging from.  It's everyone's idea of "Hannukah fun!  Let's blow up light bulbs in kid's asses!"

I had so many forms of torture used against me it's like these people were just always looking around for something to use.  They even got bored and wanted to get creative with how they tortured.  I even had a wooden clothes rack, used for torture.  Whatever you have in your house, just think about how someone could use it to torture you and it maybe happened to me.

This "Keep Your Eyes Open" video is almost like a description of my surviving a hit job from an entire train wrecked to kill me, just to get to me, and then the lengths Carol will go to in order to push Katie to the top when they should be at sub-zero.  I mean, if you want to look at it another way.

Another time my Dad tried to kill me was at a huge incinerator-crusher machine.  It was like a huge pile of garbage that got chopped up and turned under a huge wheel or cylinder that turned everything, and he was pushing me into it and I ran from him.

Right before the attempted "hit" on the train, my Dad tore off my pin that was given to me and said he'd take that.  So that way, I'd die and the pin wouldn't be found on me and he could give it to someone else.  Who?  On that occasion, involving Italian-Jews and British royals, he was stealing my pin before hoping for my death.  At the tower where they tried to kill me, and a bunch of royals had come out, they stole my "with love, Diana" baseball from me.

So some of the things that they did to me, was Carol electrocuted me at her house while I had to lie down, and I believe they and my parents were cutting me up between them to send each other messages.

After I was tortured to my lower spine I had some wild whacked doctor, maybe Dr. Fallon, put, I believe, screws in my lower back.  I have "pins" in my elbow, which are like screws, to hold my broken arm in place, with a plate.  Well, they did an unnecessary surgery of me, privately, to put screws on my lower back for awhile and then would affix car jumper cables to them and "charge" me with electricity.  Later, maybe to conceal the lower back scars, when I said the Japanese man and other men had noticed and freaked out, after the failed assassination at the twin towers of the look-out and the fire station, I was taken to the hospital for an open spinal tap.  They claimed it was "to relieve pressure".  They basically put a weird stopper in it so it could be opened up and accessed at different times.  Like a water bottle or bladder, a rubber one for your back, has the knob you screw in after filling it with water, they had that in my spine.  I had a tube too, with an IV attached to my bed at my house and I sometimes carried it out with me.  My Mom would go in and withdraw a syringe of spinal fluid now and then "to relieve pressure" and give it to some doctor.  I mean, unless they were trying to use it to clone me.  So then one day my Dad got mad at me and said "Do you need a tail?  I'll give you a tail" and he had a doctor come over or he did it himself and I have not known him to have medical training, but he literally put a metal hook into that part of my back.  It had two prongs, like a hook that curved up slightly, like a double hook for a plant hanger.  I remember touching it lightly and feeling pain and feeling total shock and horror that I had actually had someone put a HOOK into my back, that stuck out.  I was then being mocked at the dinner table and my Dad would come up behind me and buzz me with electricity to the metal hook in my back.

It was basically a repeat of what the Middletons did to me.  They were using metal screws in the same place to facilitate torture of me, and at some point, criminal doctors inserted other things into my body that had a magnetic pull.  I was laughed at and asked why I came to dinner with a "tail".  They they would put a dunce hat on my head (more on that, about other times and uses and kinds) and a still collar that pointed up and tell me to eat and I couldn't with that kind of "bib" on.  So then they were telling me the only way I could eat now was if I bowed my head and lapped my food off of my plate like a cat or dog, and they wouldn't let me use utensils or my hands.  The Middletons were involved in the metal hook in my spine as well.

When I felt it back there, first of all, the idea of a hole in my back made me sick and feel like throwing up.  But then feeling the metal hooks sticking out, I barely touched it and realized, "This is real.  I don't believe it.  Someone just put a metal hook inside of my back."  And I panicked, couldn't breathe, and I cried.  I just cried and laid on my bed on my stomach.  Cried.

There are people who enlarge their ears, put knobs in their bodies, on the tongues, belly buttons, and hooks in their heads or back to hang from for endorphin rushes.  Those people do this voluntarily, and are extremely rare, and like pain.  I don't like pain.  I'm normal.  And what this country has done to me is so abnormal they have nothing to say for themselves but that I'm crazy.
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9/24/13

About the train, I am pretty sure it was a train-to-train collision because there was an explosion and fire and fire trucks and paramedics.  If it just "jumped the tracks" because of a break in the line, which is possible that this was done to hope for the collision, I don't know that it would burst into flames, but I don't know.  Maybe it would.  If it was a break in the line, it could be done ahead of time, and with knowledge to the driver of where it was planned to be at.  I guess if it rolled from jumping the tracks and had combustible materials, it could explode, but what I heard was there was another train coming the other direction.  I guess though, at the scene, I remember talk of one train though.  Anyway, people died.  The first cars were toast.  I think it was like the engine back maybe 5 cars were in flames and I thought it was something like 15 people died.  I am sure the conductor expected to die and was prepared for it.  It wasn't like the plan was to "break the line" and then have a scary jostling.  The expected result was death so it was rigged for that.

I know the Princess of Michael of Kent and her husband were there.  He was there, with his beard, looking steely-eyed and staring at me.  Later my Mom was showing me some photos and said which ones did I like best and I said one with her in black and white with a large curved stiff collar and holding a black cat.  I liked it because of the cat in the photo and how she sort of was dressed like a cat.  I was asked why I liked it and that's what I said.  My Mom sort of didn't love my choice and there were other photos she thought I'd prefer but that's the one I liked.  When I was younger someone had given me a catsuit with a long rope tail and used to waltz around in it and swing my tail.  It was like a zip-up Halloween costume with a floor-length tail.  I liked wearing it and singing "Stray Cat Strut".  I heard Stray Cat Strut at Stacey Petersons octagon house.  So I had a tape or it was loaned and I wanted my Mom to play it in the car.  I sang it in my room at the top of my lungs too.  I loved that song.

I loved that tail too.  I am mentioning it because in E.H.'s book "Safe House" he talks about "I was wondering where my tails were."  So I'll mention the non-torture tails and the torture "tails" or implants both.  Also, I know I've written this before, but with Princess Michael of Kent, even if she was making fun of me in that dress with the stiff collar and cat "tail" and necklace looped like the place in my spine, I still like the photo on an artistic level.  It is still balanced, artistically, and has a nice movement to it and the contrast with her expression and the cat's expression.  My Mom had photos too, not magazine pages.  They were official photos and I looked at the backs at the photo paper they were taken on too.

I used to zip up in my cat suit with the tail and walk around my brother, swatting him with my tail, swinging it around to "Stray Cat Strut", and running to see how the tail moved behind me when I ran.  Then my brother was trying to step on it when I ran or pull it off.  He finally did one day and I screamed and said give me my tail back.  He put it around his neck like a stole and used it like the towels at the dojo to flick my legs with.  So I complained to my Mom and she wouldn't make him give it back.  I said, "I need a TAIL."  So she got out some cotton balls and put cotton balls there and I wasn't happy with it.  I looked behind me and at that and said, "THAT's not a TAIL!"  My Mom started to laugh and said, "Sure it is. It's a bunny tail."  I howled and said, "I don't WANT a BUNNY tail.  I want a REAL tail!!!"  I said, "I can't even swing a bunny tail.  I need my TAIL.  Where's my TAIL?"  I asked because then it disappeared somewhere.  It wasn't even fun to run without a tail following after me.  I wanted her to sew it back on and then it just disappeared.  That ended my interest in pretending to be a cat.  I liked playing "cat" but without a long tail, it wasn't as much fun and there was nothing to watch behind me, swing around, flaunt with,...it was like playing Superman without a cape.  So I had an immense amount of fun playing cat with a cat costume that had a long tail.  I used to run really fast, stop, and wait to see it skid up ahead of me and past me and then run the opposite direction.  I sort of liked the physics of it as well as the theatrics.

The torture part of tails was that at the Middletons, they attached electrical cords to my backside and I was forced to wear tails to dinner.  There was one place I was at, maybe visiting royals, where I had to "get dressed" for dinner.  It wasn't like you just walked in or found out when it was dinner time.  You can to specifically dress for it and that wasn't at the Middletons.  There was a bell in my room even.  Like a bell I could ring and someone showed up at my door.  I remember something like a bell with a woman for a private plane maybe but I also had my own bell in my own room at one place with a very tall staircase.  I didn't have it when I was super young but I guess when I was old enough to ring a bell, these people gave me one and said if you need anything, ring the bell.  So if I picked it up and rang it, someone would show up at my door and then I could say what I needed or wanted.  They also came to my door and told me how much time I had until dinner or to dress for dinner.  I don't remember if I dressed myself or someone helped me pick things out but it was always to have showered or bathed, be clean, and dress nicely and have hair done for dinner or "supper", whatever.  It was a habit, so I did it for some length of time because it became a second-nature, familiar thing.  I always expected to dress for dinner.  I think one time my Dad showed up to go with me.  Usually I was by myself in the room.  I think one time I said I didn't want to go to dinner.  I asked to have dinner on a tray in my room because they started being mean to me.  I said "Please, can I have dinner in my room?"  They brought my dinner there and then after a few days of this, my Dad showed up and looked depressed and said we were going home.  Also, when I stayed in my room, they said I rang the bell too much but I didn't ring it that often.  There was a clock in the room that I kept my eye on too. 

When I say they started being mean, it was a long formal table with a head.  They began making fun of me while I sat there.  First, I was taught table manners and how to sit at a formal table and which fork to use first.  There was always an assortment of silverware there:  spoons, forks of different sizes, and a knife.  I asked about the littlest fork once and what it was for and Charles, I believe, made a joke about it.  A man made a joke and teased me but wasn't making fun of me.  In the scene in Pretty Woman, where she picks up a small fork and accidentally shoots something across the table, I remember I saw that scene and thought, "They took that idea from when I had dinner with those people."  I remembered the whole conversation about it and how it was so funny to them.  It was never a table of one fork, or just two forks, one spoon, and a knife, but when I got home, my parents let me set the table with two forks and I would say "Where's the rest of the silverware?"  I wanted to set the table with the full setting and I liked putting flowers on the table and arranging the napkins and place settings nicely.  I was allowed to set the table with 2 forks, at least, for a long time and then one day someone said, "We don't need two forks."  I was appalled.  And then all of a sudden, we didn't need cloth napkins anymore, we had paper ones or a "hand towel" that we passed between the whole family.  We first had dinner served and drinks poured with the question, "Would you like more juice?"  When no one wanted to do this anymore I was the one who got up and said, "I'll pour the juice then" and I went around the table to offer drinks.  I was so young, I spilled everything all the time.  I spilled some juice and some water and milk but I tried not to.  Then it went from nice crockery and nice food holders to ugly things and I asked my Mom, "Can we put this in a nicer dish?" and she'd say no and I would say, "But that's UGLY!  I want it look nice!"  and she would say, "It's just more dishes to wash.  We don't need to dirty-up another dish."  And then it was getting even worse.  They were saying things like, "Come and get it!" and once someone brought in a cow bell.  For a short time I still bathed before dinner but I was told not to dress again because "It's more laundry.  If you want to put something else on, you can wear a nightgown or pjs."  I didn't like eating at the table in my pajamas so I stopped bathing before dinner and just washed my hands.  They sort of had a bell at first or just announced dinner was served and then it became this loud hollering across the house, "SUPPER!  COME AND GET IT!"

If they thought it was funny, I didn't have a sense of humor about it at all.  I had a sense of humor about a lot of things but I wasn't happy with the way things were devolving in table etiquette.  However, on the other hand, everything had been very nice at the one formal table I was at, and then they were very vicious and mean to me, to the point of making me cry so I would excuse myself please (making sure not to cry in front of them) and go to my room and cry and then I just wanted dinner in my room.  Also, we had dinner at a dining room table at my house and then it was transitioned to a round table in the kitchen, which was fine, but then we got rid of the dining room idea too, and I overheard, "We don't need it."

I don't know why it bothered me so much, but the table devolution really got to me.  Every single day it "bothered" me like an itch you can't scratch or "something is not right".    It is possibly because I was very orderly naturally and liked nice-looking settings or arrangements, which no one would hardly know now, but that's how it was.

When I was at dining room tables I basically remember maybe a royal one and then probably Middletons.   I don't know who else was at the Middleton table because it wasn't just Carol and Mike, they had other older people there, and most of my memories are not about having dinner with them either.

I also remember I stayed in my room for a full week, before my Dad was called.  I wouldn't leave my room because they were so mean.  I had my dinner served in my bedroom, by myself, for one full week and then they called my Dad.  I started reading I remember since I had no one to talk to, and the minute I began reading, in place of their company, they called my Dad.  I remember they didn't want me to read the book I'd started, a thick novel.  They had left it on my bedside table and I didn't pick it up until a few days of feeling captive in my room.  It was a thick hardback book and similar, in some ways, to the hardback design and color of E.H.'s book "Safe House".  From what I remember of that room, at the top of a high veranda staircase (which I would slide down with some kids), I am probably wrong about the d├ęcor but I just remember everything being white.  It wasn't a sterile-feeling room, it was just white on white and cream and everything pristine, warm, and comfortable and nice and it was a large room for me and my headboard of the bed faced, if I'm thinking of a computer screen, if it was N, the large window was W, the bureau was E and the door where the service came was NE sort of, and S was maybe a dressing room area.  I had a telephone, and a bell to ring when needed, and 2 books were on the bedside table, one of which I picked up to read, and there was a lamp and very high ceilings.  In one of my rooms or a room I visited, there was a fireplace as well right there in the bedroom.  If I was cold there they lit a fire and there was a mantle and a hearth.  When I was back at my house in Moses Lake, I used to ask why I didn't have a fire in my bedroom.  There was a fireplace in my room in Moses Lake once and then they got rid of it and moved the chimney over so there was only one fireplace in the main room, but they probably had me with a fireplace in my bedroom in Moses Lake for awhile to try to cover over what fireplace I had in another country or remembered in another house, in a bedroom.

In the nurseries I was in or around, I remember plain walls, an animal theme wallpaper that I really liked and used to think about a lot, with elephants and monkeys and lions and different animals on it (I think at my house in Moses Lake) and I do remember with the animal print, I liked the monkey.  I used to lie there in my crib or starter-bed and think about the animals and imagine them playing and talking to me and how I'd have them play together.  Later, Curious George books were sort of just another monkey, but the one I first liked was on my wallpaper.  I think I used to ramble softly, out loud as I had them playing too, saying things, like, "And you can play with him, and then you go to..." and making up ideas.  I used to talk like this or hum myself to sleep.  The light would get dimmer and dimmer and the animal faces fade as I made up their stories and then I would fall asleep and I used to point to them and trace designs for how they would move around.  I didn't just talk and look at them, I put my hands on the wallpaper, my fingers mostly, tracing.

I also remember Winnie-the-Pooh, and in another house somewhere, "Peter Cottontail".

Someone gave me this card once, and I kept it a long time:
I remember someone thought it had a sinister meaning or had been sent by someone with a sinister mocking idea, but I liked it and used to look at it all the time and it was not wallpaper but sent as a card.  I think I thought, "Why are the eggs falling out of the basket? because they'll break" and I felt bad about that, like, "Is that why they gave this to me?" so I do remember liking the card but having a bad feeling and memory from it and it was probably from Carol Middleton.  Maybe the bad connection was because of what she did to me with bursting light bulbs around me and torturing me, and later with my Mom.  It was like this "mixed message" card.  I was a little older when I got it, not a baby, and remember it.

Step on the gas!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talk%3ALeft-foot_braking

Come ON Mikey.  Can't you teach me to drive like a real race-car driver?    He taught me to drive braking with the left foot.  Deliberately, and coordinated the assassination plan with people in the U.S.  They set me up between all of them, with deliberate and planned attempts to use a panic reaction combined with programming they did with me, with driving.  Everything they did was coordinated and methodically practiced and they forced me to practice over and over and over, even figuring out what level of lights would blind me so they could plot the perfect crime.  And they tried to kill me dozens of other ways as well.

So the other thing I found, was my ring that was given to me by my Grandma Connie dropped in a pool and when I found it and asked why it was my ring, my Dad and Mom got mad.  Their transfers of my property didn't always work out as planned.

Both Carol and my Mom were using magnets in and on my body to torture me.  I caught my Mom one day in Moses Lake.  I mean, years later, after what she and Carol were doing to me, I was getting hurt in the kitchen around my Mom and couldn't figure out where it was coming from.  One time they had used large magnetic sheets to cause metal in my body to forcibly react and pull away from my body to the magnetic sheets.  Both Carol and my Mom did this, in different ways.  Once they did it so it felt like my body was being pulled apart in two different directions.  This was done to me at extreme levels by Carol, and then years later some of the same thing was being done and I wondered what was being used and then found out, it was magnetic.  The same thing was done to me by military when I was later working at Logan's, right before Katie's wedding.  They did it to my temples on the sides of my head, and Carol used those same sites, but hands-on at her house. 

When my Dad put the metal "hook" into the open hole in my lower spine, where my Mom had been drawing syringes of spinal fluid from, when I had "headaches", he didn't rummage around and force something into my spine.  When I later had an epidural and an anaesthesiologist tried to access a site on my spine for that, he poked and poked and prodded, trying to jam in a wire.  It never worked and he spent tons of time on it.  The reason it didn't work is because the U.S. or England or Mossad had implanted a metal plate next to my lower spine.  They had screws next to it, which were used for torturing me later and then after someone whacked me with the cast iron skillet, and radiated me in the fire tower, they claimed I needed  a spinal tap to alleviate pressure and the metal plate was already there and then one day my Dad came over and yelled about giving me a "tail" or "You want a tail?" and put a hook into my spine through the hole.  It was a two pronged hook and it magnetically stuck to the metal plate implanted under the skin, which was accessed through the hole they had there for withdrawing fluid which sometimes was connected to a thin tube. 

I remember when I felt it there, I got dizzy with feeling scared and sick.  My Dad had just put a metal hook into my spine, and I could feel it sticking out and it hurt to press down on it and I freaked out.  I just thought, "Oh my gosh.  Oh my gosh...Oh my gosh" and said this over and over, under my breath, trying to breathe.  I could hardly breathe because I was so shocked.  I just went into this repetitive murmer of "Oh my gosh" because I believe at that time I'd been taught to say "Oh my God" was taking 'the Lord's name in vain'.  I either said Oh my God or oh my gosh. I maybe said "Oh my God" and then when my mother said not to I said, "I was really thinking about God when I said it so I wasn't swearing."  I said it over and over, like to keep myself awake and not pass out from shock--to hear it out loud and just as a sort of "breathe, breathe, breathe" device.   It wasn't like a weak magnet obviously.  It was some kind of industrial-strength magnet and it held the hooks there like a rock.  So I was even forced to walk around like that, and eat at the dinner table and I had to make sure I was leaning forward and my back didn't touch, or that this part of my back fit into one of the slots between the wood planks to the chair.

Years later, when I bought some "Hard Tail" clothing, I didn't even think about the label but I remember some people did notice and reacted.  They had the label as a little rectangular strip of material that stood out over the clothing and was in the back, right in the center of the spine.  So it was like the metal plate in my spine at the lower end.

I think Katie Middleton and my Dad should share a jail cell together.    They might finally be able to catch up on old times. 

My Dad would come up behind me while I was sitting at the table and pull on the hook in my back, not a lot, but so I noticed, and he electrocuted me once with something to it.  It was the electrical thing for a race car track that had remote controlled boxes for 2 people to compete and race their cars against each other.

This is strange tangent, but I also had several music boxes that disappeared from room after given to me as gifts.  Most of the things given to me, were mine and my property.  For the very few things I may have been "used" for to secretly give one thing to another, I could have charged a consignment shop fee.  However, when it comes down to it, by the time I was older, there wasn't any need to use me for "laundering" gifts to Kate Middleton or other criminals.  There was no reason the gifts could not have gone through adults, or through kids close to those intended for the gifts so it's more like I have been some kind of "German heiress" (not really, but for example) that a Mossad group assumes has had a parent steal from them so they terrorize the heiress and oppress her and steal everything to "repatriate" Jews for stolen WWII properties.  However, that's not the case, because I don't have a parent that did that, and whatever I earned or bought or was given, has been stolen from me.  How, exactly, do this many things get stolen from me and no one traces where it's all going?  It's impossible the U.S. and Canada and UK and Mossad do not know.

Of the music boxes stolen from me, one was sort of an inlaid petrified wood design box with a design in a rosewood with birch or a pale wood color and you opened it and it played music.  Another one was a ballerina that twirled around, and I think one was a Christmas scene inside of a glass ball globe that was on a dark wood mount and you wound it underneath and the globe would turn.  I also had a small box that had a lock and a sturdy but refined key to it.  I had that jewelry box before I had a diary with a lock and key and I used to put the key in a specific hiding place.

Speaking of boxes, on occasion Mike Middleton brought something to me in a box to eat.  From what I remember, it was fish and chips.  He brought me fish and chips in a box and he brought me a cinnamon roll in a box.  This was when I was at their house and he got home from work, though I think sometimes I had something like that at the places I was taken to on occasion.

Later, at Granny's, she tried to give us grandkids "fish sticks" from the oven, and tater tots or fries with them, and I think part of that was to have me forget about Mike Middleton's English fish and chips and the cinnamon rolls.  Everyone knew I loved fish and chips, from England to the U.S.A. just like "cops" supposedly knew my name from "Oregon to Washington".  That female cop really underestimated the girth of my influence; only Oregon to Washington?

I also had fish and chips with my parents in Moses Lake but it was more of a cover.  I don't think my parents were fish and chips people at all.  They are steak people.  They have never been huge seafood fans, and while liking fish, I never, ever, got the impression they loved fish.  They loved steak.  My parents took us to seafood houses and to Skippers if we weren't near the beach, or they would sometimes get cod and later, halibut.  I always liked fish and fish and chips and one thing that helped me recover from my neck surgery was cold salmon (day-after grilled salmon).  I couldn't stomache other things but salmon was tolerable.  I do remember, however, fish and chips from Mike and he brought cinnamon rolls and then later my family went to Cinnabon and Granny had them too (cinnamon rolls). 

I know Katie Middleton herself is a criminal for several reasons.  For one thing, her family has been too connected by work to my parents for her to not know about it.  Then, in several ways she deliberately chose to flaunt what she knew and displayed her criminal tendencies openly, for example, by what she wore on the runway with the tie in her hair that split two ways, and a little "light" flash on one of the sweaters she wore. She chose to introduce William of Wales to Gary Goldsmith for another thing.   Gary Goldsmith is Carol's brother, and they tortured me at that house with electrocution, bursting light bulbs, cutting, and repeatedly saying bad things to me about my life to curse me, along with teaching me to drive so others could take over and train the rest of the way and I'd have "brake failure".  They were involved in the cocaine industry as well, and Gary Goldsmith was known not only for his coke dealing but for visiting me and assaulting me at my house years after Carol and Mike had their hands on me.  There is no way Katie did not know about torture of me as a kid.  So the cocaine industry involvement is a small thing compared to torture of children, which is what she has supported her entire life.  She also knows she has been in possession of items stolen from others and given to her and she has done nothing to return those things to their correct owners.  She is connected to Mossad directly.  I can say this with confidence because when I was beaten up and tortured by her Dad and my Dad and others, in Israel or Jordan, and definitely in Israel at some point, it's obvious Jews don't like me.  Why else would they take me to a "site" where they could so viciously assault me?  They couldn't do that in the U.S. or England?  I mean, horrific things were done to me in Commonwealth places and the U.S., and torture, but one instance of gang-bang and torture was done in Israel or Jordan.  I saw the correspondence from Katie Middleton to my parents.  I had evidence of the link between the Goldsmiths-Middletons and my parents.  I also know my own parents, I was believe my Dad, put a light bulb up my rectum and then turned the generator on and broke it because I remember that at my house in Moses Lake.  I also remember my Mom coaching me on how to suck on my Dad's "balls".  That was done one time in the kitchen in Moses Lake, and I remember I was made to kneel there and I was confused because I said, "I thought you guys are married and I'm your kid?" and I couldn't understand why my Mom actually wanted me to do that to my Dad.  I had to kneel on the linoleum.  I remember the same thing being done with Mike Middleton and Carol, from a different angle, different residence, different lighting, and same scenario.

So let's remember, once again, how my parents were getting classified, "high-security" clearance to enter guarded areas that required hand and eye scans prior to entrance.  They probably needed them when there were twins and triplets involved.  Otherwise, a facial ID would suffice.  The whole idea of hand and eye scans, for precise ID, probably came up when the problem of "identical twins and triplets" was realized because how do you really tell them apart?   

It gets even worse.  My Mom and Carol took turns on teaching me different parts of lesson to practice for giving oral sex.  Both of them used suckers and lollipops but other things were used as well.  Carol gave me round lollipops when I was old enough to have them and was coaching me on how to suck on them and on balls, and then my Mom was getting flat lollipops with swirls in rainbow colors and teaching me how to follow the line of the swirl with the tip of my tongue.  After my Mom and Carol gave lessons to me on how give oral sex to a man (when I was below the age of 5) then I wasn't given any suckers or lollipops anymore and they moved to ice cream cones, although with ice cream, they tried having me suck on fingers, and then thumbs, when I was an older baby or toddler, and increasing the size of digits they had me suck on.  When I was older and got ice cream cones, I was told not to put my whole mouth over the top the whole time and lick the sides.  Granny also showed me.  So it was like, Carol Middleton, my Mom, Granny, and ??

I highly doubt Katie got the same "training".  What did they do with her?  Put her in private lessons for intellectual aspirations?  It basically means, I was tortured, she was not.  I was a victim, she is not.  I was raped and sexually assaulted, she was not (to my knowledge).  She has, on the other hand, taken part in becoming one who tortures little kids and others.  This means, I am innocent and she is not.  I am not a criminal and she is.  If you want her kind to proliferate in the world, to the detriment of some who have been innocent and perhaps even more intellectual minus the torture, that's a very strange decision.  If she wants to attempt to go for the "poor me, stop picking me on me" card, why don't we look at the pedophile and torture cards of my parents and her parents and family against me?  --She has no room; she is not poor innocent "Jennifer Woods" (nice try though.)

So lollipops and suckers and ice cream cones are all normal for kids, but for me, they were being used as sexual props for pedophilia and I was tortured at the same time.  I was extremely beautiful as a toddler, and there are very few photos remaining to prove it, but very, very, pretty.  I went through a hideous ugly phase, but as a toddler, and very young girl, I was extremely beautiful.  So the U.S., Canada, and UK trafficked me and gave no thought to my ideas for myself and how I might want to have a family, a career, and pursue something normal.

pg. 142.  E.H. says the idea he had access to a lot of personal information in his short time at the CIA wasn't true and Aldrich Ames had much better access to Soviet agents, but that even A.A. only had some names because he didn't spend his whole 9 yrs spying in that section.  E.H. says he saw some communication plans with times and dates of when people were to meet up, a year in advance, but that was about it and they were computer generated.

I saw a communication plan once, that went out a year in advance but nothing else.  It had nothing but dates, times, and some names.  I specifically looked for it though, it wasn't really disclosed to me.  It looked like times for talking to Katie.  There were different people on the list and one of the names repeatedly showing up on that list was "George".  So I asked my parents, "Who's George?"  Just another name for Katie, or her "kin".  They talked to her more than me.  From what I could tell, it was this huge plan all laid out for her, with lessons ideas, communication times, the works.  Of course she named her public kid "George" after all that.

So guess what I got? when I found out?  My parents gave me a "Curious George" book.  You FOOLED me! 

My parents decided to move to Sherwood, Oregon not very long after I found the communication plans.  I was introduced to Robin "George" Bechtold and his Dad "George" but that's not exactly what George was about.  My Mom was drafting ideas of all these different lessons and plans for her and everything, with question marks and then there was this plan that went out a whole year for meetings with people for her and about her. 

"Who's George?"  I caught them.  There were a few names of who was meeting who and when.  I found this after finding the communication between Katie and Mike and Carol Middleton and my parents in my own house, so I always thought it had something to do with Katie because the lesson plans and ideas for someone her age and like her were all over.  My mother was looking like her personal assistant.

E.H. says what he saw were meeting sites not listed by address but code, and agents listed by code name.  He says it would say something like "Agent XYZ is scheduled to contact us at site Delta on May 1, 1994 at 4:00 p.m."  He says the information was not sent to Moscow but to special in Langley and those at the Soviet desk never see the information, and the special reports section does report to Soviet desk and CIA station at the embassy if the information was useful or not (that was produced in such meetings).

I overheard what sounded like ideas between my Grandpa Garrett and parents over Katie as well, and then later, I heard information about how to electrocute me best. 

Other things I remember, before I forget, which have nothing to do with this section here, but are about some of my experiences (which ties in eventually), that I brought up but didn't get into are about living other places and at the table.  I described how I was forced to have a hook stuck in my back (which is the same idea as a knife in the back really), and how it was painful and prodded at or touched by my Dad sometimes while I sat at the dining room table.  After I was shocked and prodded there, the whole dining room table 'went away' maybe in the hope I'd forget what they did to me at it.  He brought a hot iron over one night too, and I started screaming and crying.  Just the sight of it and I was stuck to the chair.  They tied a bandana around my head for the table too.  At another place, at the formal table, they all wore party hats and said I couldn't wear one but I could wear a tail and had a tail affixed to me like a devil tail with a pitched fork at the end and had me wear that.  They made fun of me and told me to wear a bib for eating lobster with them and the lobster was too hard for me to crack and I couldn't eat anything.  They said "you're not just going to waste that food are you?"  At one point I told to lick the cocktail sauce off the table or my plate.  They basically blamed me for not being able to crack the lobster tail and no one would help me with it and then they accused me of wasting food by not eating it.  So they just sat there and laughed at me.  It was not the larger formal table but I think the Middletons because it was darker, and not well-lit, not as festive and ornately decorated with all the silverware settings, and there were some other adults there at the table of maybe 6 or so.  Not a huge group but really mean.  They laughed openly at me, in unison, and mocked me which was in a slightly different way than when I got the cold shoulder from what was possibly the royal's table.  One man stared at me and said, "No, you do not get to wear a hat--there are not enough." He said something like that to me. I had timidly asked if I could wear one too because I thought maybe I'd fit in better if they allowed me to wear one, maybe they wouldn't be making fun of me.

If Princess Diana did not really die, but staged her death after possibly being injured, and defected to the U.S. CIA, that would be something, wouldn't it?  Probably no one would do anything that drastic unless they believed someone was trying to kill them, or they had to go into Witness Protection because they defected, or needed protection because they were about to be caught for participation in an assassination attempt.  1. someone is trying to kill her, 2. she defected and it's dangerous when giving new information, 3. she was part of an attempted assassination having defected earlier but realizing the risk of being exposed was imminent.

Those are the basic options (I think) if she did not die and wanted to go into hiding.  The other idea is of course, being out of the spotlight, but that's not something one would go into strict hiding over.  So basically, narrowing those 3 options down a little more tightly,
1.  Someone tried to kill her,
2.  She tried to kill someone.

If she really died, I would say the possibilities are more endless.  Or ambiguous.  It would range anywhere from someone tried to kill her, she tried to kill someone, she was about to expose someone, she defected, she double-defected...I haven't heard of more than triple-defected, but it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind.  Maybe men stop at the triple-defection line and settle down and women keep defecting-defecting-defecting-like a mood ring. 

I don't know why I just thought about this, but I was shot at twice.  Once from a helicopter or plane (will think about it) and once when I had to go behind a car. I guess I'll go back to that in a little while.  I didn't shoot a gun myself but I passed them on.  I am not sure if it was real or if it was training like "CIA ops" or something.  But I'll go to it in a little while.  I probably already have before, but there was a whole shoot-out.  I guess the thought came to me after I sort of pictured some woman like Diana or someone else, tall blond woman screaming and then making a leap in front of me and sommersaulting and something about gun shots.  That is not what I remember with the shoot out by a car, but I had some idea of a woman running, jumping into a sommersault and guns.  Wearing a white pantsuit.  ?  Why would a blond woman be wearing a white pantsuit while running, jumping, and tumbling from gun shots?  Solid white on top, solid white bottom loosely fitting legs.  That was weird.

It looked like a tall blond woman running in front of me, screaming and then with a flying leap, landing into a sommersault thing, in a loose-fitting white pantsuit.  Either running from guns, fire, or into something or maybe this was in a dojo?  karate?  I will say this, I know, without a doubt, there was not a woman like that at the dojo I went to with Rory in Cashmere.

I am thinking maybe I saw my Mom training for something somewhere too, like in karate but maybe the woman in front of me was a different woman.  I vaguely remember my Mom doing something like this too.  She was doing tumbling things and I think sometimes, with a weapon.  Yes, I remember my Mom in a white karate-style workout clothes and I also remember a larger taller woman with platinum or light blond shorter hair.  She was slightly gangly.  I think I was trying to follow them and I was just so-so and kind of chicken to do a head-fall tumble.  She kept encouraging me to try and run and do a flying leap and tumble but I was too scared, maybe because I'd already had my share of falling over stairs and "tumbling".  I did try, but wouldn't capult exactly.  I was afraid of hitting my head or getting hurt but on the bars at school I wasn't afraid and I don't know why.  Being on a CIA training ground with parents is like Fear Factor sort of.  The parent-child Fear Factors.  I'm not sure I know about my own parents though. I have an Honor rose which makes me think of this, but I always think, well, I don't know who they are really, but I'm sure I'm honoring whoever they are in my own way.

Which reminds me of seeing two people dance in the ballroom one time.  I don't think they were my parents, but once I danced there with one man, by myself, and then another time I saw this man and woman dancing there and it was really nice to watch and lit up inside and I saw them from outside in the garden. I  think it was waltzing.  I am not sure how I was outside in the dark, in the garden, looking in but it was the same ballroom and I saw them from the windows side, all the floor length windows and one arm out straight, the other on the shoulder and back, and light dancing.  Sort of slow to moderate tempo.  It seems like once I got into a car with a man, and we drove there and snuck outside and were in the garden peeking and saw it and then he was upset.  He said, "Come on, let's go" and I was told "Shhhh!" and don't say anything and we snuck out in the dark and hid behind bushes and hedges.  He told me he was in love with my Mom.  I don't think it was my Dad, Robert Garrett, who told me this.  I guess it was either my Dad or maybe Edward Howard?  I don't know. She was dancing with a man who had a lot of money.  I am not sure.  Maybe it was my Dad.  But she was dancing with a royal was the impression I had, and this man I was with was upset about it.  I will have to think more carefully about whether it was a rich man or a royal specifically.  But I saw them there and this one man was really upset but wanted me in on it.  He had sort of a 70s kind of jalopy type car and gave me the keys.  He let me drive all by myself, with the keys and everything but was there to watch me and I had to sort of stand to do it.

He had a steno notepad in the car, and a pencil and I took notes for him.  I wrote notes to my Mom for him, and I think I wrote a code down that he wanted me to remember.  He kept telling me to remember it and could I remember it?  and he wanted to see how I wrote my name on that paper.  He asked me to write my name on paper before someone asked for my signature later at my house in Moses Lake.  He did drink beer.  He told me he had had too much to drink so I could drive.  He wasn't drunk but he told me he was.  He said he was drunk and I said, "No you're not."  He said something like how can you tell and I said, "Your eyes don't look drunk like when people are drunk" --something like that. 

I then have a weird memory of either him or someone who tried to match him later, who got mad and cut me with a pocketknife or burned me with a lighter or something.  I thought, how did he get violent like that?  I am not sure why he'd suddenly assault me but well, I guess whoever he was, it was an assault to the left side of my body again.

Anyway, I felt confused, and perhaps two people switched with that car, not sure.  I don't know, but I did take notes for him and what's weird is it seems like there had to be someone good around and why was everyone always attacking me?

I think he said something to me, after he assaulted me, that I was wrong to be so trusting.  Trust No One.  That was his message.  So trust no one, but then again, I'm confused because this whole panic-inducing thing was coming from the CIA apparently.  Trust no one until you kill yourself properly?  I don't get it.  Or maybe one time someone found out about one incident and then wanted to base the whole scheme with it as the "apparent" setting-point to make it seem someone was involved.  I don't know.  I think maybe my Dad bought his car from him because then we had it until someone went for a "Joy Ride" in it and trashed it.

I think my parents got blackmailed by Mossad.  That's a tangent, but I think it's true.  Whoever my real parents are, or the one or ones that loved me, I think Mossad blackmailed them hard.  I also think the Morrocan man I stayed with in D.C.  was part of them, but he told me he was Muslim.

Well anyway, at this one place with formal dinners, I wore a dress once, that I helped to pick out, that had a trail.  I called it trail, not train, but it wasn't really long, I was just told to pick up my skirt while walking down the stairs but I could let the back trail behind me.  I have no idea what kind of dress it was because I don't remember.  It had a petticoat.

I had a lot of dresses there with petticoats.  When I got to Moses Lake and was asked what I wanted I said why are my skirts all flat, I need a petticoat.  I had bloomers, and petticoats, and puffed skirts.  The bloomers were mostly something I got in Moses Lake I think, as a joke, but petticoats were de rigueur.  So I got a petticoat in Moses Lake but it was sort of different in style, a little more of a tiered, floating wired thing.  At the other place it was more of a frilly bustling petticoat.  I don't remember ever not having a petticoat when I was younger.  So I learned how to walk down stairs without tripping on my skirt, by picking it up and allowing it to "trail" in the back.  So I'd look back at my skirt to see how it "trailed".  It was sort of like "trails" and then "tails".

I got to the table and one day I thought I should have a tiara.  I am really not sure if they were all wearing crowns and tiaras or if they always did or did just this once, but for some reason, I got the idea I should have one for their table.  So someone sort of condescended to the idea and I wore a tiara one time.  I think in the past I thought or said I didn't wear one, but I did once.  And then after that it was more like torture devices for my head.  But there was a small and pretty tiara.  I put crowns away for people, but I think I wore a tiara and maybe it was a full tiny crown but it was small and delicate.  I think I remember more of a tiara and my Mom was upset it was a half-crown or that I had one at all or something.  Maybe it was a full one and then it was a tiara.  I don't know, but there was some disappointment over something, and I think I only mentioned it to be like the rest of them. 

From there, I was at the Middletons with their party hats and making fun of me.

After I wore a tiara or crown for something, I was told to wear a tail like the devil too, with a pitched fork.  What I remember telling my mother was a woman said, "See if you find her a tiara" or "Something like a tiara" so I wore a tiara or "something like one" to the table next but it wasn't really to be above them, I just thought I'd fit in but I don't think they liked it.  They all looked at me like...speechless.  So I did wear one and it was simple, something like the one Katie wore to her wedding.  Possibly I remember something said about a halo tiara when they had me wear one or mention of it but then I think maybe the one I wore had more of a peak in the center, and then I was later forced, or asked, to wear a devil's pitchfork tail so I did.  If I did wear one, it was higher in the center and then sort of sloped at the sides, not as much of all the way around one thing.  I definitely remember one of them say, "The halo tiara?" and they discussed it because then later, somehow, someone in the U.S. found out and they made it a collossal joke to mention giving me a "halo" head brace.  I think my mother was most disappointed I'd done the wrong thing and asked at all, but perhaps as a kid, how was I to know?  I just thought if they're all wearing party hats maybe they'll feel better if I wear one too.  That was why I asked.  But then I think maybe my Mom was sad it wasn't a tiny crown, but who knows! maybe she wasn't sad at all and maybe appalled I even wore a tiara period.  I thought someone said something about one of Margarets' tiaras from being a kid, but maybe I'm wrong. They brought up Margaret's things.  (I tell you, all I'm drinking right now is absinthe but it really is helping me to remember more!)  what I recall is that then after one woman said, "I don't know, maybe one of Margaret's..?" (tiaras), then another woman spoke up and said, "No, I don't think it's necessary."  So I was disappointed and I don't know if I cried or not but then I believe someone knocked on my door and had one for me to wear.  It was a man that said I could wear one or had one for me.  This is just what I remember but maybe I'm wrong about this part, but it's what I sort of remember. The women were somewhat amenable and one was definitely NOT but just said, "I don't think it's necessary" and then a man had one brought to me and I wore to the table.  I remember maybe some slight glancing down at the table.  Who knows, if it was all a "grand" stint by the CIA, it was pretty good, but that's what I recall.  I SHOULD say I remember it was Prince Charles, but I can't say I absolutely remember.  Maybe it was not him but this is who I associated most things with, yet something tells me not to say it was his doing.  I seriously have to say it might have been someone else. 

Regardless, it was the last time I had dinner with them, or close to the last time.  I remember being made fun of and ridiculed and then it was light bulbs in the rear end, and torture, and wearing a hook for a tail and countless attempts of murdering me. 

I probably shouldn't have said I wanted to "wear a hat for supper" (so-to-speak).

My life has been really fun.  Wanna trade?

I wasn't allowed enough the most common comforts after this or maybe before this too.  I remember I had such a comforting connection to my bibs as a baby, for example.  As a baby, I felt such an incredible amount of happiness and expectation, when my bib was put on me.  As a baby, or little toddler, one of your first instincts is a primal one of eating and the comfort from eating and the satisfaction of seeing someone's face while eating and the contact.  I don't know what it was exactly, the personal attention to a caregiver or person or to feeling hungry and knowing my bib meant I would soon be fed, but I loved hearing the snap to the back of my bib.  It was always a nice soft bib and then I would wait, so happily, to hear that delightful "snap" to the back of my bib.  Well, it was like all of a sudden, the moment it entered my consciousness and I was thinking about how much I loved it, and how comforting it was, someone who read my mind wanted to destroy this.  Maybe it was that some of them were buttons, not snaps.  Whatever it was, I had just begun to think about it and ponder it when my Mom switched it up, at the orders of someone else or not, and I was being choked.  The moment I began to attach to the idea of my bib, they were choking me with my bib.  I mean, taking the bib and instead of fastening it, using it to partly strangle me to where I couldn't breathe and then releasing it.  So instead, they deliberately turned a nice memory and satisfying moment in my life to one of terror.  My Dad would do this too.  Every single time they came over to put on my bib, I was being strangled with it first to the point that then, when it "snapped", I felt a sense of terror and fright and was scared to death.  They deliberately ruined my infancy and young toddler ideas of happiness at the dinner table and worked to pervert a natural feeling of comfort with terrorism instead.  Only those who are psychic enough to read babies and toddlers mind would do something this disgraceful.  And only those who are deviant, malicious, cruel, sadistic, and hateful, would seek to do this to me and my own parents did this to me.  I remember my Dad doing it the most, but my Mom had to have been around as well, and they started this up with my seeing them behind me, with horrific hateful expressions and about to strangle me--all "grand" preparation for inducing panic so I could later kill myself and spare them the prison sentence.  I think I got so paranoid of hearing button snaps after that I wanted buttons that didn't make noises.  It's possible they shot me with a bee bee gun at the same time of the snap at times.  It was really that bad.

I am trying to remember if they did this to me while I was in a high chair, booster seat, or what, but they had started terrorizing me when I was just a baby in my high chair.  I remember sitting in my high chairs for a long time.  Not all the time, but sometimes, like I was confined to my high chair.  There is some very bad memory of being in the high chair at Granny's.  It was sort of like my first electric chair and I have remembered in the past what it was that was done to me, and I've sort of forgotten but I'll remember again when I later think about it.  There was torture from the high chair at Granny's and then at my parent's I remember being in a plastic one and sitting there forever.  I don't remember as much torture from the high chair in Moses Lake as the one at Granny's.  It was the electric chair set-up there.  Granny definitely electrocuted me when I was a baby because I remember things done when I fit in that high chair and it was a wooden one that was only for infants age 0-6 months.  Maybe 1 year at most.

Granny was getting a washcloth wet, putting it on top of my head, and then putting some kind of a small metal hat on my head, either an actual metal hat designed for electrocution of babies, or a small metal pot.  Basically, the metal "hat" went on top of the wet washcloth on my head.  Then my feet were kept wet, where there was a wooden platform for the high chair to rest your feet, my feet were kept wet. I am trying to remember exactly what but I don't know.  She made me put a hand in a bowl of water of some type, if I'm correct, and I had something placed in my mouth to keep me from being heard.   Some kind of electricity was applied to my body from there through electrodes taped on or by forcing me to have my feet on something and I was getting electrocuted.  About the time I was terrified to go to the high chair, she quit.   I mean, when I was older and she might have thought I'd remember her, she quit.  She made me hold onto a metal eating utensil while I was electrocuted, to conduct the electricity.  It was forced to my mouth.  I was blind-folded most of the time as well.  Even though I was a baby, I had a blindfold put around my eyes when they tortured me in my high-chair.  It was not just Granny.  There were 2-3 other individuals whose faces and/or names I saw and heard that were also involved.  I can remember one woman and 1-2 men but definitely one man for sure.  I will write more about it soon.

Granny was doing that to me and she never looked like she was feeling remorseful or reticent about doing it.  She never cried and never looked like she felt bad.  In fact, she appeared to enjoy herself.  So later, of course, I'm not remembering this or wanting to think about it and I'm told me and Rory are her favorite grand kids and everyone knows.  I am not so sure.  She did mention to me she thought I had a widows peak and made a lot about that, and I never knew why.  She meant widow's peak hairline.

I don't know.  I think I look more like Prince Edward (the abdicator) as a child than any of them but I have no idea why I'm saying this aside from looking up photos to see child tiaras or whatever, and I saw some old photos.  I look much more like Edward than Elizabeth.   Edward and Elizabeth hardly look related at all.  They have totally different ears, noses, teeth, from each other and yet they are brother and sister!  Edward looks like he knew too much by age 2.  Oh wait.  That's not Edward, that's Elizabeth and Margaret in the one photo where Margaret looks like she knew too much.  Then yes, of course Edward and Elizabeth would look different because they're farther removed but still.  It's like they had a maid in the woodpile.  And haha, the one with the widows peak behind Elizabeth II's mother looks like she knows all about it.
http://photovide.com/british-royal-family/

I didn't see too many tiaras or crowns here but anyway.  I have to say, one of the photos has me wonder if it was really Anne I saw in bed or Queen Elizabeth II and why would the Queen do that to me, if so?  The color photo, where she's smiling and her kids face-off with each other laughing, she looks so very familiar there.

(tangent...very impressive last night with the long white gown just slightly around the left corner "it's him". so who are you exactly? just as, I now notice, the woman around the corner behind Margaret in the chair)  It definitely looks a lot like her, but I'd have to see Anne again.  Why would the Queen tell a little kid to go down on her, if she did?  Anne is bad enough, but why would Elizabeth II.  I suppose either is something to "kill" me over.  So why do it to start with?  just to humiliate me?  There has to be a better reason that or a better source for satisfaction such as knowing something I don't know.  Sorry, you've all tortured and electrocuted me too much to be psychic like you anymore...so I can't imagine, but you wouldn't torture me that much and have royals involved in trying to kill me if you didn't have something to worry about.

So what was the option?  Death?  I am so sick of CIA and FBI and Mossad and Royals.

The royals who I noticed present after the attempted pay-off for a hit against me by exploding a train were Michael of Kent, the Mr. and Mrs.  So either they are CIA and happened to be in town for the event, or on the train, or they were there for royals to witness the occasion of my death.  What was "in it" for them, specifically?  I am pretty sure the Count of Wessex was there but I'm not positive.  I will look at a photo because right now I can't say for sure.  I know that even as a kid, I knew the woman whose photos my mother showed me, matched the man and woman who got off the train after impact.

I remember because I was in the kitchen with my mother when she brought the photos out and it was after royals had tried to kill me, along with CIA, from the "twin towers".  Basically, I mean, from the look-out tower for the royals.  And I have to say, I think my Mom and Dad were both there because I do remember someone saying they'd go ahead with my brother to the top and it was supposedly my Mom who was doing this but I don't know why I have a memory of her there so I am sorting out if it was a different time or deliberately an attempt to infuse another memory into that one and I won't say until I'm perfectly certain.  The only people inside were me, my brother, Jim Sandberg, my Mom and my Dad and I'll sort out who was immediately there and then who with my brother.  My brother was not there--I did not see him at all in that instance.

My Mom was saying to me, with the photos, which dress do you like best on her, and then, do you remember her at the look-out tower?  And I said, "No, she doesn't look like the woman.  That woman looked like Diana.  Valerie was at the train and got off the train when it crashed."  When I said this, my mother looked upset and desperate and tried to convince me it was Valerie and I kept saying I remembered her from the train not the tower.

The only reason to insist it was Valerie was if Valerie had a solid alibi.  I mean, why would my Mom try to cover for her?  By saying do you remember her from the tower?  It's like they wanted to deliberately mix me up again so the real persons couldn't be caught at the actual times they were at the assassination attempt locations.  It's vaguely possible it was Valerie, but if so, that would make for 2 times she was at assassination attempt sites for me and my Mom didn't want to admit she was at the first one on the train. If it was her and not Diana, someone could find out where she was.  The CIA followed after so it's not like they wouldn't know.  I said her forehead looked too high or she had a bigger forehead than the lady I saw and I said the lady I saw maybe looked more like that Lady Diana.

Why take a signed baseball away from me, from Lady Diana if she was not involved.  My parents were trying to murder me for them.  Again.

"I pray nothing comes between...lillibet...and bertie..and the throne."  So I have my Dad wanting to be "Bert" and I'm supposed to be "Ernie" as a kid and who's the "Lillibet?"  Oh....aha!  Katie Elizabeth Middleton.  Yes, I see Bertie.

Well, the same woman who looked like Diana on the plane, that tried to murder me with my mother around, looked like the one coming off the helicopter when I was supposed to be murdered from the look out tower.  And the Michaels of Kent people were there for the train assassination with one other blond man royal who I recognized but I can't be sure of his title or name.  So let's say Diana wanted to  murder me.  If so, I'm still alive and how is it looking when I remember things?  Maybe dire.  So what to do?  Fake your own death and go into hiding as a CIA refugee.  How else does she think she'd be William's "Merlin"?  The other possibility is that she was there the second time to be entrapped or as a party to something she didn't know about.  If so, why be mad at my parents the second time around a failed assassination and not the first?   I mean, the first for her, as in on the plane when she expected I'd go flying out of it.

That is not even to say Charles is not involved, because if he and Angus overheard what I said about royal underwear and knew I remembered some things, they might have stayed at home for the fireworks.  I mean, hypothetically, if one is to not believe they were on the helicopter or know.  One or more motives. 

If Diana tried to murder me and got refuge in the U.S., she is basically "on the loose" and endangering my son's life.  She would also approve of having a secret baby born to Katie Middleton and William in the U.S. instead of England.  Afterall, if the CIA is giving Diana secret refuge in the U.S. when she conspired to murder me, she could feel confident the CIA will also protect a secret baby and the Mormons can all feel really special about having nice white royal blood in their territory and maybe figure out a way to eventually "marry-in".  The high priority government-Mormons have put on Middleton is already suggestive of a Mormon relation.

If Diana was involved in trying to murder me, and my mother was on the plane with her, and then my Dad is caught involved trying to murder me too, that makes for a connection between Diana and my parents, and then add to that, the connection between my parents and Katie Middleton.  Then throw in how many people have participated in electrocuting me and degrading me.  Before William could pursue Katie Middleton publicly, Diana would have to die.  That way, it wouldn't look like she was part of the "Kill Cameo and get Katie Middleton's friends Bob and Dicksie involved for it" plan.  I didn't know who Katie Middleton was, because it had been so long since I saw or thought about her letter.  But if William was going to go public with her, I might hear her name and remember and then the questions brought up by me about Katie and my parent's correspondence, Diana would know, could lead directly to her if my memory was triggered.  And to the Michaels of Kent who, some say, have one friendly person in on Russia for them.  Michael of Kent and Diana could seem to be adversaries and actually be pretty good comrades.  So if they were going to be present to witness my death (hopefully), who else was involved?  Oh that's right.  "Anne" or "That's the Queen".  So almost half of the most prominent members of the royal family were wanting to kill me?

Hmm.  Let me look at how my life has gone so far...

Ummmm...Yeah, that would make sense.  Throw in the FBI -kissers, CIA -kissers and Mossad -kissers, and yeah, maybe this is why I haven't had "the best of times".  Oh and don't forget the military and how much they love my Dad and Mike Middleton.  Or Robert Guy Garrett and Mike Middleton.  If I was an -kisser, I was less than 8 years old when I had royals and U.S. government officials forcing me to kiss, isn't that the truth.

I was not a willing participant as an adult.

Diana would have only one alibi for not being found guilty of trying to murder me.  The only alibi she would have would be to say she "changed her mind" later and decided to confess everything.  If that was the case, she hasn't done it while she's in hiding.  If she really died, the only alibi is to say she changed her mind and tried to make her death a statement to people who might know what had been going on.  Regardless, she would still be technically prosecutable for conspiracy to murder me.  You can change your mind, but you can't change what you've done.  So it's like, well, if she died for a cause, to make some kind of point, maybe she was sorry.  Otherwise, if she's alive, she isn't sorry at all.  She's hiding out and is a danger to me and my son, just as Josh Gatov, Mike Nichols, and other conspirators who tried to murder me are a danger.  So what did she do?  Secure a stowaway with Russell Strong?  Who worked at the Dam in East Wenatchee?  Is Russ Strong related to the same Strong that Forrest Tancer and Joy Sterling bought their vineyard from or worked for in the 70s?  I know Tancer is now working with a Miller, and Miller is part of a Wenatchee pedophilia ring.  And the Sterlings and Tancers were involved in all of this, so it would make perfect Russ Strong might be the type of person to torture me and my son when I was 7 months pregnant, with his Army ID card and cop assistant, for Diana at the Dam.  He would be one more U.S. conspirator who used his wife or someone he knew to ring me into working for them just to secure proximity to me and my son for criminals.

The U.S. hid Jew Josh Gatov, who raped me, in Thailand to avoid prosecution.  The U.S. defamed me for Bujanda and Garza with Mormons involved in electrocution of me and my son.  There is no firm record of death of Mike Nichols, who tried to assassinate me in 1995, who was a Canadian kid.  The U.S. was involved in encouraging collusion to torture me and electrocute me by my own family, Springers, Gary Goldsmith, Carol Goldsmith-Middleton, Mike Middleton, Dr. Fallon, Carl and Mary Del Balzo, and others.  If the U.S. encouraged my electrocution by my own family and Middletons, and knew about the Middleton connection, of course they knew which UK British family royals were involved as well.  This would make protecting their spy Diana of Wales a high priority, or at the least, cooperation with England in hiding her here where she was less likely to be detected.  There is very strong and extremely high motive for faking a death for Diana.  She may have really died, and possibly for some reason.  However, the U.S. had, on a scale of 1-10 motive, with 10 being highest, a 10 in motive for faking her death and hiding her.  They would have known if Katie Middleton came out into the open and I brought up the past, she would go down with it.  It would ruin plans of a royal marriage of Middleton to William and it would implicate Diana as having been involved in attempting to murder me with a joint motive between my parents who were connected to Katie, and Carol and Mike Middleton.  If the U.S. hid Diana in a faked death, they could see how I reacted and what I brought up about Middletons and the U.S. government.  After testing this and passing the test, they could introduce just a little more back into the public arena, at a time, including, possibly, eventually Diana if they thought I was convinced she was never against me potentially and was a friend.  Even England could say they cooperated for "highly sensitive and classified" reasons.

How much, for the dossier of secret information if we promise not to prosecute for attempted assassination and collusion against a U.S. citizen Diana?  Something like that.

Of course, Charles would have to be "in on it" if he's supposedly verifying her body as dead.  Either Charles would be "in on it" and willing to lie, or she is really dead and possibly was about to expose something in my favor instead, if she had changed her mind.  If Charles is "in on it", he would lie to protect her and his sons and not want the issue of pedophilia and royal underwear and assassination attempts and torture of kids by Middletons brought up.  After all, he was grinning hard enough with Katie for her wedding.

Not only did my parents know I hadn't mixed up Valerie and Diana and some of the royals, they knew I remembered.  So, you know, after ANOTHER assassination attempt in 1995...against me, and then I'm at their house recovering and saying again "I remember", Diana might have been thinking, " GOING TO HIT THE FAN".  Especially when I suddenly had a job, friends, I bought a brand new house, I had no criminal history, no mental illness history and all I had was a lot  on my parents, the CIA, MOSSAD, and some British Royals.

So by the time I'd settled into my house, which was in 1997, it was maybe time to run into hiding.  Who put "Cambodia" on my list anyway? She might have wondered.  Did Diana choose to go to Cambodia with the Red Cross in 1997?  About the whole, blowing up people's parts, and hidden mines, when I had all these implants in my body and the UK, Canada, and U.S. torturing me?  Did SHE choose to go there or did someone put it on her schedule for her.

Who picked it out.

And if I got "crowned" as a kid, does that make me a royal threat?  How about if I saw the royal's underwear? and more?  does that make me a royal threat?

I am able to give away information on every phase of government plotting to arrange "brake failure" and I have more information than that.  Whose idea was it to have me lie in a coffin with "papers" while they shone a red light in my eyes first and then flashed a bunch of other lights? to plan for how to kill me?  How many times did they use a light or object to see how sweaty my hands got and how fast, for speculating about my panic reaction and timing?

Who picked out Cambodia.  Because either Diana hoped she could get a message out there, she was covering for her own involvement in things, or she didn't choose it at all and thought, seeing the schedule a year ahead, "Who put Cambodia and land mines on my list?  I need to get out of here!"

Would it be worth it to England to let Diana leave?  Well, let's see.  If much of their income or GDP is derived from royal tourism and things, having several royals implicated in torture, pedophilia, and assassination attempts against me as a kid and as an adult, would profit newspapers and media.  Because royals are connected to the British government however, their involvement in collusion to attempted murder and torture and pedophilia would cost the government in legal costs and court costs.

What would be more expensive?  A trial and inquest over a "faked death"?  Or several trials and inquests over not one but several members of the royal family?

It's 1997.  The child that the UK, Canada, Mossad, and the U.S. tortured by electrocution and raped and committed pedophilia against, is alive.  Not only are there several failed hits, overheard by the child as assassination plots involving money, there is eye-witness accounts by the child who is now an adult.  The child, now an adult, despite electrocution, remembers too much of the information.  She has stated at earlier times she remembers several adults and times, places, locations, and weapons and who was involved.  She is recognizing involvement and participation by her "family".  The plan for assassination by brake failure went dramatically awry.  Another attempt, now involving a member of the Commonwealth and indicating Canadian involvement, has gone awry as well and she is still alive.  The only positive thing is she is implanted further for greater torture efforts at the Salt Lake City hospital.  She is once again living with her parents as if nothing has ever happened to her but then she brings up remembering things again.  She buys a house, has a stable job, and no character or criminal problems.  She is a virgin by choice as long as she's been able to choose for herself.  She goes to church and prays everyday.

What if she talks about what was done to her and gives her testimony?  What's the damage?  How many individuals could be linked together, by now, over several assassination attempts?  and torture of her as a kid and sexual assault?  How about let's say it's 1996.  Who is she working for?  Who can we get to start building propaganda against her?  She is already bringing up "under the table" work with a family in a report.  She has made one report in 1994 and we might anticipate she will add to the reports.

What might Cameo Loree Garrett have to "report" besides some "tax fraud"?  How much money are we talking about losing, between the UK, Canada, and the U.S. over a major prosecution scandal and lawsuit?

So.  Given this scenario, how much money do you think all of these incredibly powerful and rich persons involved, with contacts in government, might be willing to spend to get men to date-rape me and lie about me, and defame me and start trying to create criminal and mental instability claims against me?

I mean, do you think maybe there is tiny motive? 

They didn't stop trying to kill me either.  It's a continuing statute that is still running.  I'm sure some people quit or changed their mind or decided against further involvement, but the statute has not expired.

Nothing I have remembered is committed as sworn under oath until it is sworn under oath either, which means I would not lie about these things in my blog, and it is NOT my "imagination", or just "creative writing" as I was pressured to say by an FBI employee (tampering with a witness)--it means where I have gone back and forth a little or not been firm on who exactly and what time specifically or action, is something I am prepared to make direct under oath.

It's not like it's all fuzzy now or I have GAL, I mean ALS, or Alzheimers or dementia.  Maybe someone could sing ALS GALMM and all's bright from a jail cell, wondering why they never got the silent night.

pg. 143.  E.H. says "This exchange of 'Yes you did it!' and 'No I didn't!' is what I have privately called the 'pissing match'.

So about pissing.  I am trying to remember some different things about my life through reading this book.  Did anyone ever piss on me?  I know I intercepted a LOT of email from groups implying William and Katie were ready to make a show-down against my son with some of the old groups.  Based on what I have been through as a kid, by royals, Mossad, the CIA and others, I feel concerned about my son's safety and I've always been rightly concerned.  Based on the past behavior by some royals, if they know what was done to me and some would know, and they wanted to be part of this whole torture and pedophile blackmail thing, it leaves no room for doubt that they went after my son and they WILL put themselves and their families at risk of death if they go after my son Oliver again.  I have nothing to say or do about it, but I feel sure God will avenge in his own way, as some jail sentences also should unfold in their own way.

As for me, I will more tomorrow.
********************************
9/25/13

Alright, I can clarify a few things.  One is about the halo crown and Margaret's things that were joked about.  What is odd is that Katie wore a tiara someone has claimed is the 'halo tiara' and I think the claim is dubious and a possible cover.  I think it is possible the reference to a "halo crown" is to kill someone so they can wear a "halo" as an "angel in heaven".  I think later giving a name to a tiara of "halo" is to cover for the fact that it was one more reference to killing me, and a verbal one that matched at least two attempts I was witness to.

It was not the first reference to a "halo" because later in a plane the question was asked if a crown is held over your head does that make it a halo? before trying to murder me off the plane.

If I was visiting royals that often, and I was, because I do remember much of it, I must be royal and they didn't want me to know for competitive reasons.  I don't care whether or not I'm "royal" as much as I would care to have a normal life and my son returned to me.  There is no reason to have some kid around, coached in etiquette like a royal, unless they're running some kind of Jon Benet pedophile shop, or a child is really royal and they don't want them to know but indulge and are curious to have them along.  If I am royal, most likely yes for what it's worth, they thought it might be nice to have me visit and meet the family, but they decided I was competition and since I didn't have papers (I don't know why...either a long-line secret or illegitimacy, which would seem to knock out a competitive threat anyhow) they figured they'd have me leave and pretend it never happened and then for whatever reason, wanted to kill me.

I sort of remember maybe a crown when I was very, very little, but I am probably wrong.  That one did have velvet of some kind on it I'm pretty sure.  I remember sitting there and a man standing back and smiling and on one knee facing me and someone laughing as I maybe said it was heavy or touched it or something.  I remember the weight on my head was very heavy.  I remember a cape around my shoulders too, because later my cousin was wearing a Superman cape and swinging the cat around by the tail and I thought his cape looked very thin compared to one I'd worn.  Someone put a velvet cape of some kind, with them, over me but who knows why--maybe it was for fun to see how it looked but I was very small, and yet I do remember it.  I remember a royal red carpet too but who knows where that was from, but very early-on.  Basically, like a runner. I saw this runner being unrolled for either me or someone else or both because I remember seeing it unrolled all the time.  Which later ended up, as a substitute, being a rolled up piece of carpet in the floor of our car to unroll when we got out.  I know it wasn't Hollywood, and everything was much more like England. I do remember, at some time, seeing a "ball" like a royal orb, and a "stick" and possibly my Grandpa Garrett carried around a walking cane all the time to have me forget about it.  I also remember a couple of chairs.  Charles was around once and then there were a couple of other younger male royals who were members of the family somehow, and then I think another time was maybe more formal.  I know the crown hurt my head.  It was very heavy and I got headaches from it.  For example, about younger royals, I saw a photo of Angus' son and I recognize him and don't like to look at his picture because I remember someone who looked like him torturing me there and making fun of me.  Another thing I remember is going to Parliament.  I visited the House of Parliament at least one time.  From what I remember, at some point I went up and looked out over the balcony but I was also on the ground level and I think I met some people.  They smiled mostly.  I don't remember going there with royals--I remember going to Parliament with my Dad or a man who looked like my Dad.

As for wearing a tiara to dinner one time, I was older by then, and I think possibly, even though I'd worn something in the past, I might not have worn one that time.  It is possible all of them decided not to wear crowns or tiaras at all, so I was not alone in not wearing one.  I do remember someone saying something about Margaret's thing.  Then I was in my bedroom, and it changed, and the lady-in-waiting (2 or 3 women there) were all talking together.  One was saying she thought it was unnecessary and another said "What about the halo tiara?" and another brought up another idea.  The women were going to have me wear something, it sounded to me, and one looked very positive and one very grim-looking at me and then a message came through or a royal came in about how "Edward" (one of the royal men who went by this name sometimes) says no.  Then a couple of women looked very sad and at least one very triumphant and relieved, and then I maybe cried a little because I felt bad and then went to dinner and none of them had crowns or tiaras on.

So then when I was at home and told my mother about it, she was really upset when I said one had brought up the halo tiara.  I think I went home to see my parents and told them next time I might wear a tiara and one of them mentioned the halo one.  My Mom froze in her tracks in the kitchen and looked horrified and then later when I told her Edward said no but some of them said okay and were making plans about it, she really wanted to know what the man had said specifically.  I don't know why my mother reacted to the halo tiara idea.  Either she didn't want me to be part of the royals at all and thought it should go to someone else, or she thought it implied I should wear a halo for electrocution torture, or that I should die, or that a halo tiara was a significant step down from being cloaked in a velvet cape and wearing a crown.  I have never known why my mother reacted as she did. 

From what I remember, he came to the room personally to deliver the message.  I thought he looked at me like some kind of usurper.  His eyes were sort of bugged-out when he looked at me.

Either there or at a different place, I remember having my hair brushed and styled as well.  Then I got sick for some reason and had to stay in bed lying down and they brushed my hair and styled it while I was in bed.  In the music video "Keep Your Eyes Open" at the scene of the woman lying down with her hair being brushed is something that happened with me but I don't remember all the settings and surroundings--I only know I was still very small and too sick to sit up even.  I believe it was after I was burned with the iron or mason tool for the first time.

At Locklyn's house after some of this, I was forced to sit in a corner with a cone-shaped dunce hat for very long periods of time.  She also blind-folded me in a high chair and tortured me herself, there and at Granny's.  She always used a blind fold.  It's hard for me to understand why she did some of these things because I later thought of her as my favorite Aunt, and fun, and yet maybe she just wanted me to forget things she'd done.  She also was part of the "oral sex" training operation.  One day I was in the kitchen and my Grandpa Baird and Dad came into the house there and peed on me.  I sort of think Valentin did too but in a way, I think he was just around somewhere in the house and smirked at me, but I know my Dad and Grandpa peed on me.  I cowered in the middle of the floor, and they kicked at me too.  I couldn't believe my Grandpa Baird and Dad were doing this "together" against me.

I felt like I had no one.  I mean, I actually was too shocked to think I had no one because it was more like everyone was doing these things to me and I had to "bond" to someone because there wasn't anyone else to bond to.  So I bonded to them like a prisoner of Stockholm Syndrome.  As I've said, my son is not safe there or really, in this country.  I hope maybe one or two persons changed a little and try to protect him, but this is the kind of experience I had.  I was totally shocked that my Grandpa Baird did this, in his work boots and everything and just as I was about to say I was going to tell on him, my Dad came around the corner.  I mean, I can't believe I didn't black out more.  Then I think Locklyn came over with a small pot of urine from somewhere.  I cannot say specifically.  I remember her with a bowl of urine but right now I don't have the recollection of what it was for or what was done.  I do clearly remember the "pissing match" in assaulting me there. 

It is very possible the royals, someone or a few of them did this to me too and that this was a repeat of that event but I don't remember it.  I perhaps remember Charles once doing something unusual, but I don't remember the "pissing match", if there was one, with royals, at least not right now.  I do know some of the younger men who look like royals tried to torture me. I think one time there was maybe a nice connotation to the crown and cloak and orb thing--that it wasn't to make fun of me or torture, but it definitely was later.  One of the chairs got turned into an electric chair and it was a large heavy royal wooden chair.  I think that was when they made me stand on a grate or put something like a grate under my feet as I sat there.  What I remember was that first Charles was interested in me, and then the younger ones electrocuted me and then he came by and sort of relieved me but had a cool look in passing like he was not sorry they did this to me.  I don't remember any women around except maybe one time when I had everything on and maybe not with torture.  And occasionally, there would be this royal who I sensed saw something and looked shocked themselves, and disagreed, but it was a rare fleeting moment because they kept their expressions and feelings guarded and they were not all in the same place at once. 

At Granny's high chair I was blind folded and when I saw people once or heard talk, and saw them, it was Forrest (Tancer), Joy (Anna) Sterling (speaking Russian sometimes I think), a doctor who looked like Malcolm Butler, like German or something--I might look at Stuart Freeh when he was younger but I remember more of a face like Malcolm Butler and he was a doctor, and a Hispanic with the Tancer and Sterlings, and Ivan.  I heard Forrest a lot when I was blind-folded and then saw him in connection with the name and it was him.  My Aunt Locklyn was there a few times, maybe Loren in passing and possibly Holly but I don't remember Holly as much.  The others I am sure about.  I heard the name Joy and Anna and when I saw her she was a petite blond and had been talking in English but started talking in a foreign language and I thought it was to have her ID concealed.  Or I saw both Joy and a blond Russian but it sounded like Russian if I had to choose a language it was close to.  She was there with Forrest before and then a blond woman was always with the German looking doctor.  I heard Ivan's name and saw him and it matched a photo I saw.  A few times I believe Carol and Mike Middleton visited, once with me in the high chair during or right after electrocution because it looked like them and Granny said, "Carol, can't you stay for tea?" and they said they had to catch their flight.  I should say, on that day, she was alone.  She was not with Mike but by herself.

Also, I have said this before, but my Mom asked me what I thought about Raine (Countess Raine) when I met her or had been around her.  I said, "I like Raine!"  My Mom looked like she thought I was nuts.  She said "You like Raine?" and I said yes, and said what's wrong.  Well, just to "do me in" so I couldn't "like" anyone, the next time I saw Raine she gave me poisoned grape juice and threw up all over and she smirked at me and towered over me.  She must have been the inspiration for the Prince song "Purple Rain".  I'm not sure why I liked Raine.  I liked Anne I think, and she was more practical, quiet, and gentle at least when I first knew her, but I think she talked to me like an adult, not using a high voice as if I needed high notes to understand her better.  Taine was sort of dramatic and theatrical and maybe a little "grandiose" in a way, but I didn't mind it and thought it was interesting--I either liked her because she was creative or nice to me.  I do remember she actually did talk to me at first, with less distance than the others, and her hair was bouffant and she played piano.  She got a really, really, mean wicked witch look on her face when I got poisoned with the grape juice though.  I couldn't believe it.  And those NAILS.  I just looked her up to see if I could read something about her and she's alive!  I didn't know.  It was an article about her having a house in Bognor.  I remember bogs.  In England they had bogs.  The article said she had William and Harry over and liked building sandcastles and getting them ice cream.  Later when I read about her, and then much later, reflecting on my opinion of her as a kid, she wasn't so mean to kids, I thought.  She was very disarming, but then, maybe disarm prior to attack?  I don't know. She is a natural with children with seems odd, but she was also not one to talk down to a kid and she tried to engaged in conversation which some felt was not necessary to do with children.  I liked that she wanted to talk to me and wasn't bothered I chattered, and then she would respond back, like a real conversation.  I craved socializing and wanted more of it.  So anyway, like I said, it wasn't a very good parting but I remember good impressions I'd had.  I don't remember ever meeting Camilla.  I maybe did, but I don't remember her.

I looked at bogs which I've done before.  I may have been drawn to BJ Mose with the idea of Mosely bog but I think maybe I was at a Red bog and a Fenns bog.  Fenns or Flanders.  I was also almost killed in quicksand but I don't know if it was a bog.  It was real, serious, quicksand.  I think the quicksand was possibly somewhere in the U.S. because I remember trees all around and underbrush and then these patches of quicksand and I got stuck.  Well, I think maybe it was England somewhere because there wasn't any place like it that I went to again in the U.S. I don't think.  The trees were shorter sort of sparsley branced and not a lot of leaves and it was cold.  I had my rubber boots on.  Well, I was with a couple of people and I had this idea one maybe tried to kill me and then the other person showed up.  I was stuck in sand up to my waist.  This sounds really weird but I almost remember someone getting sucked into the quicksand for good.  I remember these hands, like Excaliber at the end.  It seems like at one time, maybe another location (U.S.) someone got into something like it too, and had to be helped out but I think there was one man who went under in England.  I know that one place was England, because it was all moor-like, or boggish, and you came away from a thicket or something and it was all open land and flat with brush at foot level.  There was a jeep there or sort of like a Land Rover kind of car, white or cream colored, and we got in and took off.  I thought they were going to kill me because I saw this man die.  There was a gun out and everything.  Another time it seemed like a man and woman who were together and I think they got sucked in.  So I was scared of quicksand.  I'm not as sure about the man and woman but there is some idea of it, but I'd have to think more sometime about it.  I think it was some kind of MI5 operation.  This one woman in tweed there was very smart and educated.  I remember how she looked at me, like right into my eyes.  Either once one man died or once, a man died and another time a woman and man died together.  I sort of remember one of them pointing a gun at me to kill me and then someone decided to shoot them instead.  Or one man maybe did this and got shot and died but the other two were led into the sandpit at gunpoint and she expected me to remember them.  She said don't forget me.  Yes, there was a man and woman who both died in a quicksand pit.   They didn't come back out of the thicket with us.    You know who her face vaguely reminds me of right now is Anna Chapman. The spacial  properties were about the same and her forehead was not really tall, and she had light freckles and a diminuative chin.  She had medium brown shoulder-length straight hair.  She had on some kind of English country attire, like tweed and jodphurs with wellies or something like that.  It wasn't Carol Middleton obviously, this person never came back out of the ground.  There was a man with her but he didn't want to face me when he was sinking.  She faced me. 

They were accused of espionage.  Either she said to me, "I like your freckles" or I said to her "I like your freckles" and then I guess I'm trying to think, was she holding the gun on the couple sinking or was she the one who sank?  I want to be sure, but I am sure people sank, there was a gun, and it was over "espionage" which was maybe the first time I ever heard the word.  I am pretty sure she told me
"We are French".  Well, I am 100% positive.  She said, "We are French".  They asked her who they worked for or what nationality they were.  We stayed there until they had disappeared from view.  Maybe taking a kid out there, me, for example, was a lure or someone said they were killing me instead I don't know.  She wasn't hysterical at all.  She was sort of emotionless, straight-faced, and defiant but quiet.

My Nana told me before she died, "Well, I had thought we were mostly English but I have found out we may be French."  I always wondered about that because Garrett is an English name (though she was originally a Howard) but she alluded to the idea that she had thought my Grandpa Garrett was mostly English but discovered maybe there was more French than she had realized.

It seems like I saw two sets of couples die in quicksand, one with a man with shorter hair and she was blond and then the French couple.  I think it was the woman with blond hair who was hysterical and said "Don't forget me" and then the French couple said "We are French" when questioned, "What is your nationality and who do you work for?"  It was either that or "State your nationality and embassy."  Something very to-the-point.  I don't know where the blond woman was from but she was crying and hysterical.  She kept looking at me and trying to reach out to me to make a connection.  Then the French one was more distant and aloof and I think the man she was with had slightly longer hair, to the nape of the neck at least.  I think the French one gave me a pin she had with her before she died.  The blond one screamed don't forget me I think or if it was the French one, it was said without a lot of crying.  The men said nothing.  I saved the pin from the French woman and then when it was found on me I was in major trouble.  I had thought, "How did she know I wanted a pin?" because I'd asked for a pin on one of the private planes.  I did get a pin but I will have to think about exactly what it looked like because maybe the one the French woman gave me was the bird one.  I think the blond woman was American or British.  White, and I think probably American because I don't remember much of an accent but she could have been British--it was hard to tell because she was screaming so much.

I thought I was going to get shot for what I'd seen at the bog.  It was the same place at least twice.  Then later in the U.S. I think I was taken to a quicksand to have me forget what I'd seen because maybe someone was worried so I was at some U.S. quicksand place and I am not totally positive but I think my Mom, Dad, and Jim and Shirley were there with maybe someone else I can't remember.  That is where I almost sank into the quicksand myself.  My Dad also got started to sink at one point and got out I think, I can't remember...I would have to think about it more, they put very long sticks across the quicksand and you had to grab it and hold on and get literally pulled out because there was no possible way to get out of that stuff.

So then I was supposed to forget about it over tall glasses of strawberry Quik at Granny's house.

I am 100% positive about 2 couples dying in quicksand in England.  I think more, because I sort of remember one man on his own but not sure.  I was taken to the "dump site".  Seriously, if you want to get rid of a body...I mean, quicksand in a bog or pirannhas in the ocean?  Which one?  I don't know if my Nana Ruth Howard-Garrett was trying to support me or Katie Middleton for sure either, because obviously the Middletons are involved in all of it, along with my parents, and they've tortured me.  I thought sometimes, what if that blond and brown-haired man were my real parents?  How would I know.

I think I saw a few 'hits' as a kid.  As a kid, they "register" differently, and not only that, I was tortured and abused so much, I didn't know what was what.    Also, think about this:  the French woman is taken out, but gives me her pin.  She has no emotion and doesn't seem to like me, but she still gives me her pin which she didn't have to do.  If I am going around with the murderers in the jeep or Land Rover, and they killed her, and she gave me her pin, which group was on my side?  It gets hard to figure out.  And yeah, if one is about to kill someone and the other kills them, it is more self-defense.  It gets even stranger when you look at, for example, royals where one parent favors another kid and is willing to kill one for the other to ascend and that kind of thing--when it starts to involve family it's even more confusing.  Not to be dire, but then all the false-flag stuff.  What if someone who knows they are going to die wants to send out a false lead to a kid?  I mean, who knows.  I was never a spy and never had access to any information databases to try to figure it out.

When I was in the U.S. it looked like someone wanted me to die in quicksand. Later, jokes were made about it at the beach, with someone once covering me up so it looked like just my head was there and I remember someone passing by looked seriously alarmed and disturbed, like "Who is trying to make a joke of all this?" and I didn't even think about the quicksand days.  I was probably more than my waist deep--about to my chest because then I had to reach over and grab the stick.  I thought one man wanted to leave me there and then another person showed up and they got me out.  They broke a large stick off of a tree and used it to extend to me.  Of course, this loud snapping sound was like when my Dad grabbed a golf club and whacked my leg with it.

I swear, only mobster, intelligence, royals, and children of demented sadists can relate.  Seriously.  And you tell me which "psychologist" has personal experience in any of the above to be relatable or believe you enough to not say or assume you're nuts?

The other thing I think may not be true but I am not sure, is with the blond woman and man who got sunk in quicksand, I think she said she was my Mom or someone said they were my parents.  She acted hysterical enough to be my Mom, or someone that cared about me maybe, but I don't know if they were messing with me or not.  She was telling me she was my Mom.  She really sank too, and no one pulled her out.  I couldn't do anything because I was always with people who had guns and wasn't sure what to think of any of it.  I mean, some of this stuff was when I was...maybe 3 or less?  but possibly slightly older a few times.  The last time I went to Nordstrom with Dicksie (one of the triplets) she said the color that matched my skin tone was sand and marked a swatch of it across my forehead and then looked upset when I rubbed it off (as I'd do with anyone).  I mean, what if my Mom really was this blond woman who died in quicksand?  Maybe she was the 3rd one who died (triplet) or maybe she was someone else.  I don't know.  I think she even knew my name because I think she was screaming it.

It wasn't acting.  It was really outside in a bog.

Also, I'm positive it was always a fork, a metal fork, that was put inside my mouth across my tongue when I was a baby and toddler at Granny's because then she would give me absinthe and it would sting and I still have the same odd reaction on my tongue with it now.  Like, for some reason, an area on the left side of my tongue feels like it got branded or something and absinthe still affects it, if in full dose.

Maybe it's why Loren named one of his kids Brandon.  Who knows--but they did brand me on my tongue.  And it wasn't with a silver spoon.  They specifically used a fork, as in, to give me a 'forked tongue'.  This is when I was a totally innocent baby and little toddler, but I remember it, because it was done in the wooden high chair at Granny's.   I don't think it was always a regular fork--a fork for a roast was used first and then I was just reminded and tortured with a regular fork later, but they used a roast fork.  It had two prongs.  When they transistioned to a regular fork, to electrocute me (causing an electrical shock) they then offered me the option of a plastic spoon and fork or sterling silver ones.  Naturally, a toddler or baby that is hungry will choose plastic.  Forrest Tancer and Joy Sterling were very excited about it.  So then I was using this plastic fork and spoon and Forrest mocked me saying, "So much for being born with a silver spoon in your mouth".  Then later, I hadn't thought about any of this for so long, I didn't realize who Mike Tancer was when he stalked me out and one of the things he said to me, knowing about the plastic forks and spoons, was that I should get silicone breasts and they were not as dangerous as they had been, and a little silicone could do me some good.  He told me plastic surgery had "beautiful results" these days.  He was a U.S. government employee who knew what my history was and knew I didn't remember it.  He was all ready with a Visa to leave the country the very next day, in case I talked.

As for who my parents are, The CIA would already know who my DNA matches and if they didn't find a match, they've lied to allow everyone to think my life and family history is true.

pg. 143.  E.H. was talking about the pissing match and I think I remember one time when Locklyn had the bowl full of piss, it was for letting men try to aim for the bowl over me while kicking me around.  So they called it the "Golden Arches" and asked if I was seeing any "rainbows".  They said, "Here's your GOLD!"  So Locklyn then picked up the bowl and said, "Here's your pot of gold Cameo."  This was after I was age 8 and had my rainbow shirt cut off of me and had broken my arm.  I was maybe 9 years old.  Locklyn had a prism later hanging from her window in the same direction where the men were told to aim for gold over me.  I had to take baths at her house after this kind of thing.  They made me drink a glass of urine.  Locklyn stood next to me to make sure I drank it, in the downstairs bathroom, from a plastic cup.  I cried.  I don't know how much I cried because by then, they'd done a lot of things to me.

At one time in my life, when I was "sensitive", and had a "soft heart" and would cry over everything, I remember crying every single day or night, for years.  After crying that much, and having people tell you to stifle your sobbing with a pillow, you maybe cry now and then, but not every day and night for years, even if you have a reason to.  So, don't come to me with your sob story about "Joey breaking up with me" because I'm sorry, that is not going to bring me to sympathetic tears for you.

I'm charging, by the way, for Locklyn's Special Piss-Cider.  Her Jewish lawyer Kyle Flick write the contracts for it.  Kye or urine, he will provide at a special rate, if only you visit his bobble-head.

I have to say, if these people did all of this to a little girl, what do they do to boys?

I am not kidding.  I really traveled to these different places and was beat up and my parents obviously were forced to keep quiet because they had to sign something to be going in and out with eye and hand scans.  I haven't signed anything.  They tried to find a way to kill me, not to work for them, and then in a few desperate moments, hoped to trick or blackmail me into working for them so they could tamper with a witness, claim that's why I had to shut my mouth, and then they'd kill me. 

It is most likely the Jordan flights were to Jordan, given the fact Katie was also there.  However, it is also possible some of the "Muslim" dress was a cover for Israel which was possibly where I was attacked and raped, rather than in Jordan.  The Jews are some of the most vicious and mean and violent people I have ever met.  Who owned the major newspaper that defamed by the way?  A Jew.

Some other ideas, or memories I have, which I'll write about before getting back to the book...I do believe in Canada, at some point, I was taken to the Pemberton Operating Room at the Pemberton Royal Hospital.  I believe this is possibly where I was recovering from a major burn I got from royals.  I also know that while no one has mentioned this, I recognize a hospital in Seattle, WA as a site where I had "treatment".    Part of going to Pemberton involved going underground.

Before talking about that, another thing I had to once with my Dad, was go underground, underneath drain or sewer holes.  It was a man-hole and a huge group of Jews and others forced my Dad out and beat him to a bloody pulp.  Then they went after me, and pulled me out and broke some part of my body because I heard the bones snap but I don't remember where right now--I just remember being bludgeoned.  I once had to hide in a manhole, underground, for several hours alone.  One time someone held me underground in a manhole with a knife to my throat, threatening to kill me if my parents didn't cooperate.  It was a cop from what I remember.  There were guns, knives, and my parents tied up.  They were forcing a signature.  They kept saying, "SIGN IT.  SIGN IT OR SHE'S DEAD."  My Mom was crying and pleading with them not to sign it, whatever it was.  They beat her up and made more threats about killing me if she didn't sign it.  She finally signed whatever the document was.  Whatever that document was, I know my mother and Dad were illegally forced to sign it.  I specifically remember my Mom too, and I know it was a forced or coerced signature.  There was no "court" or process.  She was told to sign it or I had my throat slit.  I remember this and being old enough to go into manholes so I was between age 4-age 9 and what I remember is I was age 9.  One year after Katie Middleton was born.

As for going to Pemberton underground, it happened.  There was a line that ran along the ceiling next to a ledge, like when you're on a trail that is narrow and something they put up a pulley to use.  There was a cart, like a mining cart, I remember riding in a mining cart underground, and I also remember walking through a long dark tunnel to Pemberton because it was under a bridge and then you got there and they'd covered it up so the hospital sat on top and to the sides and it was as if Pemberton Operating Room was entombed.  It was totally classified, top-secret, and possibly, if my parents were not doing hand and eye ID for MI5 or CIA, it was for Pemberton.

I remember all the intelligence and not-so-intelligent got extremely nervous when Pemberton was unearthed in 1991.  Suddenly, there it was and it did exist, and it was a major site for torture of me.  It was hoped I'd kill myself with "brake failure" by age 16 (as soon as I could drive on my own) so no one maybe worried TOO much, about witnesses from Pemberton.  Pemberton was a nightmare and a torture chamber.  They had professionals there experienced in professional torture so it wasn't "pissing matches" about rainbows and drinking urine--it was high powered cutting, surgery to implant me with horrific devices they could track and surveil me with, and electrocution with the big "handles".  The CIA was giving money to Canada to allow them to access kids for torture, Canadian kids and U.S. kids. 

They put a hat on me for electrocution, and made me sit in a corner there, like Locklyn later had me do at her house, and I had to sit there in a chair with this hat on and strapped to a chair for electrocution and cutting.  Other times they had me lying down on a surgery table.  They kept me awake for some of the surgeries they performed on me.  No painkiller or anaesthesia and they blind-folded me so I couldn't see the surgeon's faces as they cut into my body and implanted microchips and strung me up with wires.  They not only did surgery, they emotionally abused me, telling me to "push" against the straps they'd strapped me down with, or push the body off of me, and I had dead bodies laid on top of me, if that part was not Pemberton it was Virginia.  They put live persons forcing themselves down on me so they were too heavy to push off, and they put dead bodies on me, that I knew were dead, and when I tried to run out of a door in Pemberton the man mocked me saying, "push".  And laughed at me because I couldn't get out of the room.  "Push" he said, and I finally screamed.  I kept hitting this button to let me out and it wouldn't open the door and pushing the door and I was trapped and he stood there making fun of me.  You can't go anywhere.  Where do you think you're going?  Go ahead little girl.  "push" and he'd say it in a small way when I was terrified.  They had knives and had been using them, and torturing me, and when I got up and ran, they mocked me for not being able to get out of the opaque white glass doors.

I officially "died" on their operating table once.  My heart stopped beating and they used the handles on me.  My heart stopped beating there more than one time.  I only remember one time where they said I had officially "died" and then I was at Granny's later and she was talking about "near death experiences" and what people say they see or hear.  I had one because I had almost died, or supposedly I officially died.  She got this book on near-death experiences and I didn't know what it was about.  I had just told people what I saw.  I saw them from above them, like I was looking down on them, and then I was in a tunnel.  I was walking through this tunnel and it was getting lighter and lighter and I was feeling all of my problems behind me and then I was asked if I wanted to go in or go back and live and I said I wanted to live.  Then all of a sudden, the warmth and light and light feeling went away and I felt like I was going back and then I heard myself on the operating table.

It was either Pemberton or it was in Israel after they attacked me and assaulted me.  So it is maybe a joke with Jews like Kyle Flick, about my Grandpa Garrett and how I sounded "like an angel" when I was singing at Rani's wedding, and jokes about Edward Howard dying.  It could have been Israel or Jordan because they brutally assaulted me there.  If it wasn't there, it was Pemberton and what I remember is the oval room with the semi-opaque white glass doors and how they wouldn't let me out.  I remember my Dad was there too, and he had tortured me and then mocked me saying "push" when I tried to push out of the hospital room door.  He looked like he wanted to kill me.  He was cutting me with a knife in the room and I was screaming to be let out and he just sat there and said, "push".  Just like Jew Josh Gatov.  It is 100% positive his rape was premeditated and it is also 100% true the Jews have committed crimes against humanity against me since I was a baby and are more violent than most Muslims.  Muslims might kill a bunch of people with a bomb, but Jews will single out one innocent kid and mercilessly torture that child from limb to limb for decades.  Muslims commit murder and Jews commit aggravated torture and aggravated murder.  Jews commit aggravated torture against little children and babies.  That is how violent they are.  Do I want their "intelligence"?  No thanks.  Does God still love them?  Not so much anymore.  Not so much.  Love?  Them?  How about this Israel...how about you picture God pissing a huge "rainbow" of piss over you and telling you to drink your pot of gold.  That's how much God loves you anymore.

It does not go unnoticed that the NSA and U.S. Navy employed agent Hamilton's activities, which included pedophilia and bestiality on behalf of the U.S. government in Seattle, Washington at the time I was, for convincing Michelle Erickson, who was a U.S. Navy employee prior to working for CPS, to further their pedophile agendas against children.  She got her first orders from U.S. officials that sucked little kid's penises and taught them to go after other employees and forced them to be degraded by animals as well.  That is who Michelle Erickson really works for, to this day.  The U.S. counts on Michelle Erickson to be their liason for their pedophile and torture supply of children.  She works with them to lie and keep children from protectors and then shifts them into homes where the U.S. Navy and military and CIA torture them, piss on them, and commit acts of terrorism against them.

Where else could the U.S. get a steady supply of dogs and Jews for committing oral sex and degrading children Jews wanted out of their way?  Let's make other kids look "dirty" and have them go to the Navy in Seattle, WA or stay in Wenatchee and Dryden and Cashmere and the military can go to the kids.

The last thing my Uncle Howard tried to expose, about the U.S. fucking military and their shit-top-secret torture and pedophile programs against kids, which Jews like for making their Goldsmith kids look better than the other ones, was the U.S. collusion with people like Hamilton, U.S. Navy in Seattle, Michelle Erickson, and the current presidency.  He was suddenly in the "hospital" after bringing it up and then I get to see Karl Rove's ugly pug face saying they will "kill" to keep their "secrets" "confidential".  Right.  Like using my Dad to torture me and piss "rainbows" over me for the government and then kidnapping my son illegally to torture him and try the same things with him.  He was also there in the bathroom, making sure I drank that piss.  It wasn't just Locklyn taking a collection.  I am also pretty sure Mike Middleton was there, because I remember another man and I think I was shocked because it was American people and then all of a sudden, one of the British accents too and I never placed British people at my Aunt Locklyn's house.   On the planes, yes, but not at her house in Cashmere.  So I may have been forced to drink the piss of maybe 3 different men.

For those who don't know who "Hamilton" and "Mitchell" were, they were among many U.S. agents who were known to have "proclivities" to bisexuality, which at that time was not accepted, and more importantly, pedophilia and bestiality (use of animals for sex).  They were employees of the U.S. Navy base in Seattle, Washington which is the same base I was being used and trained at some of the time, and which is where CPS employee Michelle Erickson drew her first paychecks and for whom she still colludes and works, not to mention royals like William and Katie Middleton, who are involved in child torture, pedophilia, and forced bestiality and "pissing matches".  The Goldsmiths were as involved in degrading little kids as other U.S. employees they knew like my parents and where else could they get a nice steady supply of dogs than from Locklyn Guzman.  Hamilton and Mitchell were involved with the Russians and Japanese, as are ...oh guess!

The Middletons.  It wasn't just Russians and Japanese raping me around Rory and Locklyn or electrocuting me--Carol and Mike Middleton and Joy Sterling and Forrest Tancer were involved, to start with.  How about a beer commercial that wants to flatter those involved in bestiaility against children?  How about this tagline:  "Go find your beeech."  Go find your bitch.  All of the bestiality and forced torture of children was being promoted and funded through the U.S. Navy in Seattle, WA and some of the royal family.  Not to mention Canadians.  So when I think about CPS employee Michelle Erickson and how she lies through her teeth, I look at her own admission that she was an employee for the U.S. Navy in Seattle, Wa prior to selecting a job working with 'vulnerable and displaced little kids'.

I can go back to that later, it is something that is a fact and the kind of bizarre behavior funded by the U.S. is harming and has harmed my son Oliver and you think THIS country is not a liar?  When is the last time Obama or Michelle had a military person steal Mahalia from them and force her into a kennel and then tell her to 'push' in a nasal voice while they encourage the dog to lick her "pussy".  I'm not saying that, specifically, happened to me, but it happened with the U.S. military and their asshole employees and this is why they 'need' Michelle to peddle children to them. So which Judge was so eager to shut up talk about Michelle Erickson?  Oh yeah.  The Japanese one, Nakata.  Nakata must really love children.  Maybe she thought she could try to have one with Alvaro and then she could take it to the dojo to be raped and electrocuted and to the Seattle Navy to find some sex partners and get drowned in the Navy sink tank.  Who relishes this kind of thing against kids?  Well for all of the complaints about how Hamilton and Mitchell supported the PLO, it's the Jews who like other non-Jews' kid's being degraded because they feel it gives them an "edge".  So who would be "into" this kind of thing?  Donna Titleman (Jew), Michelle Erickson (Navy), Tina Thornton (cop's wife) and others.  Pretty easy to figure out.  How many dogs got sold into sexual slavery by my Aunt Locklyn, to local "swingers" by the way.  All Kyle does is sell the tickets and charge a commission fee.

Other things that were done to me include the fact I was forced into a dog crate, like a metal barred cage and locked in, like a dog, and this occurred in Pemberton (Canada) and in the U.S.  It is not impossible that the same people engaged in these kinds of things in the U.S. were not also doing this in Israel and Jordan.  When I was trying to push out of doors in a hospital room, it was very likely the same place where my parents had to give security clearance to get in first, but then again, it could have been Pemberton and then another place was different because at Pemberton, you got there underground, through a dark tunnel, not by walking up in broad daylight to give ID.  There was a cord above the head or to the side next to the wall, all the way through the underground tunnel, which I had to hold onto, like everyone else, while walking.  You always held onto it because at the side was a cliff and it was a narrow walkway.  It was also dark so lanterns were taken when you walked through it and you walked a long time to get there.  To a kid, it was a long time.  I don't remember any lights underground.  I remember lanterns and flashlights.  If you look at a map or at photos, you can see where the bridge is, and what river it crosses and Pemberton is right there on the other side. I had to cross that bridge many, many, times, and I was tortured there and operated on in that surgery room and it may not be the only place I was operated on as a kid or "treated" because I remember Seattle at least once, I was at Moses Lake hospital, and I was in Jordan or Israel and had to be treated somewhere because there is no way they assaulted me the way they did and I just left as if nothing happened.

I remember Mike Middleton unzipping his zipper in a way to terrify me, in England at his house.  He mostly wore black slacks.  Believe me, I remember some things.  I am having significant problems with my computer interrupting me when I brought up Hamilton and making Army interception noises and having wifi disconnections so I'll write more tomorrow.  He wore black slacks a lot and not usually with a belt.






















































































































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