Z

Zone.

Monday. 111pm.

She had been up late watching live streams of Jimin, Jungkook, and Taeyung.

She would watch them primarily to try to detect some kind of evidence of what was happening.

It rarely led to anything but feeling relieved that there was none.

So she had a slow, lonely morning. Feeling disconnected from everything and deeply depressed. She wanted to leave but knew it would be better to wait. She was angry and irritable and it was too hot in the dorm, but didn't want to go anywhere.

Every update to this fan fic felt like walking on a fault line about to split.

She didn't think anyone really cared, despite the view count.

It was just a story.

But then things would happen that aligned it with whatever reality was.

But it felt like a bad plot, so she kept trying to steer away from it.

The truth was, the idolatry was a surrogate for things that were really happening that she wasn't at liberty to discuss. So, she tried to refocus her attention to it.

It was pretty difficult when they were all boring her to tears.

Clothes, merch, dances, fanservice. It was all very redundant. The truth was, the idea of actually being in a relationship with any of them wasn't appealing to her.

But she was lonely, so she tried dating apps. It didn't go well.

At least the idols basically had no choice but to be nice. It felt a little bit like consensual non consent. At first, watching some of the videos, she felt pity. Buut as time went on and it became apparent how things worked, that went away.

She thought of a show she had watched about arranged marriages. One of the husbands telling the wife "What you focus on expands"

Focusing on BTS and Stray Kids, now, felt appropriate.

They were doing things she was also doing.

And although they did them in a way that felt mostly safe and boring, she felt it was something she could do.

Watching the lives, she was reminded that none of these men really appealed to her enough to form a partnership.

Thinking of waking up to them every day didn't hold her interest.

But then again, not much did.

She was depressed. It was Tuesday now, and the weather was perfect. She woke up easily, had coffee, got laundry going and was even almost dressed.

Her room was almost the way she wanted it.

She was thinking about going out, but didn't really have a reason to.

She was feeling empty. Restless, but in a lazy way.

She thought of the series she was trying to develop while watching an old drama.

That part of her life was over.

Checking out to check out.

What was it like, they wondered.

To have people watch everything you did.

Well, not much different than being alone really.

In the streets where she sat in between two camera across from the courthouse for almost a year, she waited for someone to appear.

And they did. Sometimes.

JK would walk by in flowing clothing with a gun. Someone would say it was a hallucination, so I added it to this fan fic that I'm using it as a diary.

There was a military base in Great Falls Montana that did exchanges with the ROK.

That was how it kept happening.

Great Falls got boring. She had been there once, with a friend whose mother was Korean and seemed uncomfortable. She went to her boyfriend's house, which was awful. She decided never to return unless there was a really good reason.

She thought the ROK probably felt the same way when they started buying property in the area.

They would use it like a private Airbnb.

And for whatever reason I could hear them, like a quiet television in a neighbor's apartment.

I heard all kinds of things that way.

So I figured I might as well try to make something of it.

But seeing them now was hard. I know they were trying to decide if I was a threat somehow, and how convenient would that be? It was part of the reason she moved to Billings and started to write about the experience in third person.

Her plan was to buy property here to retire on. Because after all, if her ex stepfather could do it, why couldn't she?

And if her school could hire people from other countries, then she could do the same.

So it was time to get ready to travel and figure it all out, which was why running errands and forming connections around town wasn't that appealing to her.

Especially alone.

She was tired of doing everything alone. Soon, she knew, this wasn't going to be the case, because the cameras followed her everywhere she went and they were getting more and more difficult to avoid. Especially now that Montana was losing it's status as the last best place for them.

Which was why she was going to open a film ranch.

It was hard not to talk about the people she really knew, so she kept diverting back to the idols.

After all, wasn't that what they were there for?

BTS were difficult to recall. She had started stanning Stray Kids for that reason, because strangely the things she picked up on weren't as stressful.

Sometimes.

Watching the interactions from BTS brought back memories that were painful.

How could I explain the experience?

It was like watching a movie I was in.

When I'd move my left foot I felt like leaving.

And my right foot made me wanna write.

I woke up after a sound sleep to recordings of V.

I decided the memories were false because if they weren't it didn't really matter.

It's why I write instead of talking about it.

So what supposedly happened?

The cult who was taking care of me because I didn't have parents were a loosely associated art collective.

I told someone at the hospital that and she believed me. Sometimes I wonder if a lie detector would pass.

I kept telling people I wanted to die.

At the time I was probably about four or five, but I had been alive for over ten thousand years.

After being "liberated" from the lab in New Jersey I was given to Black Panthers who were certain I would not survive. They had even chosen a place to bury me. In Brooklyn. The Flatbush African Burial Ground.

And I keep talking about this because even if none of this happened, some of it did.

I was being breastfed by a woman who had a habit because they had me on all kinds of drugs at the lab and they were trying to let me die without suffering.

But she left me in a bad place and I got hurt.

There was a police officer on leave who had picked up a habit to cope with the malfunction of his implant. It was making him see and hear things that weren't there.

In reality his line was compromised and there were terrorists saying things to try to mess with him. They weren't with him so they couldn't be sure what was real, and they just didn't care.

I was lying naked on the counter and his cut me with a knife.

Down there.

I don't wanna glorify it but it really did happen.

And it still happens to kids all the time.

That was when Chris walked in looking for the woman who was supposed to have me because he saw her and I was not there,

The man flung me like a doll, because that's what he thought I was.

A lot of people thought that.

I looked like one.

It was one of the reasons so many people had been fighting over me at the plantation. They had artists who could accurately predict these things for them. The Yugaos and others.

I had light hair and café skin, with violet eyes.

And I was very small, but perfectly formed.

Yeah, I empathize with pro lifers because of this.

Do I believe it happened to me?

It doesn't really matter what I believe because it's someone's truth.

Chris shot the guy and scraped me off the floor.

They took me to one of their doctors who sent me home with Chris.

I remember lying on the floor in the apartment while they blew smoke on me and fed me like a kitten.

There wasn't much I would eat.

At one point I went to South America and got breastfed by a tiger until the place got raided.

People kept thinking I would surely die. But I never did.

After the incident in Ecuador I was taken to Texas and microchipped.

That was when the art collective agreed to help kill me.

So they made this art film. Chase Lisbon had a copy at one point.

It was supposed to be a critique of the way Abrahamic religions would allow child marriages.

In the movie, a little boy who now goes by Jimin and I got married. We had elaborate costumes and it was filmed on 16mm.

Adults present were connected to servers that could supposedly allowed them to operate us like humanoids. The experiments were the reason those have been so slow to develop.

They realized during neuralink trials that it was possible to control people with only thought.

That was what was explained to the little girl called Cleo.

They were going to make me seem dead and send me to have this done so I could help other people it was happening to. I agreed on camera to all of this.

I overdosed on ketamine and they told Jimin, who was called Gerei (or Gemmy) I was dead.

Cleo was wrapped in a shroud along with a baby whose mother had overdosed when full term with him. He was clinically pronounced dead.

The baby and I were placed in a mail chute that went under the ocean.

It malfunctioned and when I arrived, the baby had washed up onshore near the lab we were being sent to.

And now he was alive.

Some Christians don't like my story because it directly conflicts with the idea that eternal life comes from the blood of Jesus alone.

The truth is much more complex.

At the lab in the Philippines I woke up in a morgue covered in a sheet. I sat up and asked for food. The attendants nearly had heart attacks.

They didn't really have a place for a living human because the facility was mainly meant for lab animals.

This is part of the reason PETA exists.

I was placed in a cinderblocked cell, and they eventually brought the baby to me because we were the only two humans there besides the staff.

He grew really fast. I wasn't sure how long we were there but it felt like forever.

I had a lot of memories of this when I would see Taehyung. I wondered if he just dug really deep into Qanon. I could never quite believe any of it happened, despite knowing it was possible.

But every time I see him I remember being with him that whole time, holding him, and all of the things they did to us even though we were supposed to be dead and we weren't. Because they wanted that desperately to know how to control people and prevent death? I don't really know except how it is when you do something awful when you think you don't have any other choice. That's why I keep trying to make sense of these thoughts by making it a story.

I wonder what he would think if I told him now, that whenever I see him I remember these things as if they were real. I become so emotional I cry sometimes. This morning when I woke up to a video of him lying in bed I cried with relief.

I put together that we were both liberated from the place by an organization similar to PETA.

Taehyung was placed in foster care in South Korea so that they could monitor him. He and I were both implanted with devices that could track and monitor everything we did, said or heard.

They also monitored how our devices interacted with one another.

The things that he does to me aren't harmful. But the painful memories of what happened to us that allowed it to seem as if he was able to control me with it are difficult to cope with, even if he's just trying to protect me by encouraging me to eat or ripping off my fake nails.

I understand the purpose of the technology. I have personally known people who were paralyzed. They wanted to be able to live somewhat independently, so they would be paired with someone who could help them. This was how the people they called my grandparents were able to survive together after he became a quadriplegic.

This is all presenting itself to me as I question why I was sent to the United States.

I have memories of families in other countries who ultimately decided they could not be responsible for me as a child. My days spent running freely in Brooklyn left a lasting impression on my behavior. I was mouthy and hypersexual at a young age. But no one wanted to touch me that knew about the device.

They weren't given the manual or instructions or license, but whispered to each other about what they observed as to how it worked.

This didn't go well for me.

Ultimately I was placed under a contract with the United States government.

It would only expired if I were to die and be cremated.

So, the military will monitor me until then, and so will anyone who wanted to get ahold of my body.

How romantic.

I know they want me to have a partner again. And if my psychiatrist or doctor is reading this, I want her to know I'm trying because I can't keep relying on you all.

A lot of people want it to be someone who has great security.

So I hope if any of them are reading this they can figure out a way to make that happen because when I watch the ones who are in line for it, I just don't have the desire to chase after them.

Maybe that's why I keep going back to the idols.

The whole business it to make it seem like you're being pursued by them.

I think about life and how it just goes on whether you do anything or not. My days spent outside showed me the banality of it.

I kept praying for someone to just sit there with me.

As far as I can remember the only one who let me see him do that was Felix.

The others would pass and even let me hear them talking to see if I understood what they said.

But if they got too close I would just scream or run away.

I wonder if the reason I keep thinking of Felix is because he isn't very accessible. It's easy to excuse his absence.