Sylvanna Devlin

So, The AI involved aside.

What happens to the victim?

Why they are chosen isn’t really relevant. I was probably convenient. And to my Jailman I am still.

I am in a prison created by cognitive abuse, gaslighting, threats, and thievery.

The threats of violence are not really an issue for me. They’re supposed to make me afraid to leave my room but being in a mood never results in an actual person on the other side of the door

Should I decide it’s worth getting up.

It creates a hostile environment for everyone. And Mis Madam threatens and is nasty to anyone who wants to knock on my door.

She says she’s protecting me

But all abusers say that.

Possessive and controlling, and potentially paid for the privilege of power over my freedom.

Even though this is America and she is no judge.

She has stolen some items, returned others, sold some, abused my cat with an attempt at an injection that she failed at but was nearly fatal.

She’s lied and exaggerated her abuse and what she will do and what she will still.

To keep me here, visible, watchable and trapped.

I might escape the clutches of the system if I’m too afraid to even do my laundry.

The potential perv even threatened to take my period panties and I believe her.

Meanwhile she’s the source of the lies in the building. She threatened to lie more and tell everyone I was something truly atrocious. Something vile. Something disgusting. One word for a filthy type of abuser. A lie so stupid and dangerous I can never teach again.

Oh yes. It’s been said before. All of you. There’s no word for how filthy you are.

And as I am just going to let her dig her own grave with my belongings next time I go out, she has threatened to spread it.

Yet again.

Was she responsible for it in the first place?

Let’s mark of the careers stolen, no teaching – because once the lie is made no one can escape it’s shadow.

Writing stolen but I hopefully used by the Intelligence services to stop this kind of absurd abuse.

Learning ASL is mocked so I’m supposed to shy away. My mathematical ability dug into – despite being the Mathematician, Keith Devlin’s daughter. Promises of heightened cognitive abuse follow any discussion or attempt to focus on mathematics.

And Mis Madam goes into the bathroom to complain, threaten, say what lie she is spreading next, and what she promises to steal.

She might even stand outside my door and try to sound physically intimidating.

But she’s a pipsqueek.

Mis Madam has made up lies and gaslighting – the attempts for a whore. And I am suspicious of anything she said occurred in my room.

Just another way to scare me.

She did not find a dead body in the dumpster, she did not save the building manage from an axe. Gunfire is an issue here and that’s the only real issue we face.

This place is dodgy. Not a CSI Las Vegas set.

My sister believes the lies and worries. They’re an attempt to drive her away. Isolate me. Keep me in one spot unable to think or care for myself and on the edge of suicide.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Goals.

Maybe she wants me to rely on her. So she can keep her power and control. So she has the right hooks in to demand I do what she wants.

It’s never happening. Shots first and her fingers are on the torture button right now.

Goodbye Miss Madam.

She wants me out by the end of the day – before I even publish. I don’t think she cares I have no where to go. She’s just flexing.

But I can “go ahead and do laundry” she’ll be waiting for me all day.

To what? Thieve knickers?

She has my car, I sold it to her. Maybe I’ll be lucky and she’s caught doing something more foolish than threatening me.

It did work. But like all con artists she doesn’t know how to stop when the con fails.

Doesn’t understand why.

And just keeps working that nerve.

“I think you need more mental healthcare” is next.

Evolutionsbremse