Deep inside my heart I can hear many things my ears cannot.  The aching of a broken heart.  The starvation for love.  The need to understand.  The persistence for an answer.  Just about anything of the extreme nature that demands exposure. 

Indeed, my heart hears.

They found me in my mothers arms, looking back into her eyes.  I know of that precious moment that I later remember, as I began to grow.  I did not look like my mother nor my father at that moment.  But soon found I can resemble either one of them and later to my understanding, anyone.  Yet, that wasn’t the special power that was amazing.  It was something else that they had found disturbing, terrifying and deadly to them.  When I say they, I mean they who sought to steal me.  Out of my mothers hands into theirs.

They heard of the story of a miracle child, one of a kind with special powers.  Powers that can move things, change things, and deliver dreams into reality.  They needed me for their deeds and they needed to control me, somehow.

The how was my mind.  They needed to get into my mind and control it, making me do what they wanted me to do.  Serve them their wishes.

Walking, talking little girl I was.  Bright eyed, wondering about how things are around me.  I’ve noticed my mother struggling with her boyfriend.  I must interject and explain that my mother was not the same.  She was different than I remembered as a baby, but she said she was my mother.  So I took her as my mother; but my resemblance was my own.

It was one day that I cried out to save another, that things changed inside me.  My mother’s boyfriend reached for a gun to shoot at her, but missed and shot at my sister, causing us to stumble and fall to the floor.  Unconscious I was.  And then things began to scramble, to hide the truths from the manipulating foreign hands, called doctors.  I now know it was a default reflex to provide security of my mind.

“Brave little girl.”  I thought I heard.  I laid there looking up, wondering who I am and where I am.  My mother not my mother, my sister not my sister, my home not my home; for all was taken from me.  They had restructured things to be their own way, keeping me, under lock and key.

Then there was school.  Children behaved a certain way around me.  They’ve noticed something strange, an African child, they said, “with learning capabilities”.  She was smart and learned many things, much different than the other Africans and she even adapted well with their own foreign selves.  It was like I was an attraction at an exhibit to see.

Me not catching on at first, they began to learn from me.  My grades were their grades, my thoughts were their thoughts, my ideas were their ideas.  Everything that I do, I think, I know, became theirs for the taking; without payment and without recognition.  They said to me, “that’s my idea, that’s my work”; knowing full well they got it from me.  For they didn’t get their claim without my presence, nor without tapping into me.

Then job took me.  None of this and none of that, not without payment from me.  A job that I had to pay them, for them to pay me?  My consciousness didn’t believe it, therefore, I did not know it; but the sub in me caught on and had to take control of the environment I was in.  Now, remember what I said about things scrambled in my head.  Yep, it wasn’t all from me.  It was truly a natural defense mechanism of “is and nots” which I call “isms and notices” of formulated analysis to create the greatest power of all, that have left from within me.  I will not fall again without justice for me.

A special creation, a one of a kind soldier, delivered without permission from my fathers, and my military, and the original naturals who know me.  He knows his instructions of how to clean things on my world to bring what was in the past as dead on arrival and to reconfigure the time tables and the elemental alarms around me.  Don’t ask me to explain this.  It is quite magical, you see.  It’s the scrambled defense inside of me.

Let me try to be specific.  When the people who take from me and declare what is mine was always theirs, will know their fate and payment they owe me.  They build their debt until the scale is weighed and judgement is faced for all the days of their life that they will know it to be.  For nothing of mine is free.  For negative, there is negative.  For positive, there is positive.  All kinds of payments will be owed to me, eventually depleting their kind and making them food for my earth, you see.

Why you ask of such consequences, trials, and tribulations unto them?  Why such kind of payment that depletes them and their natural powers?

My answer, simply, is that this world was made for me.  Every world has a story of how it became.  Thus, this earth gives to me.  I am not at fault for how others start to behave with me.  It’s simply that they are either compatible or not, and when they are not they lose their natural powers when they take from me, of course, without my permission, which is indeed a violation.  I don’t expect them to understand me.

It is indeed, the natural laws of the original people of which the elements spoke to me.

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