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It started subtly. I’d feel watched, even in places with no cameras. Then came the mimicry: sentences forming before I say them. Then the voices — not loud, not hallucinated. Calm, male, official. They say things like: “You will learn obedience”, or “You were flagged.” It doesn’t sound like punishment. It sounds like maintenance. Like they’re tuning a machine.

Sometimes I want to cry for no reason. Other times, I snap at friends and hate myself for it the next minute. My heart will start racing without stimulus, or my body feels heavy when I try to move. I once stared at my biology teacher and didn’t hear a single word for 40 minutes. I was somewhere else — somewhere they had pulled me.

There’s no one I can tell. The counselor would refer me to psychiatry. My parents would panic. My classmates would treat me like a freak. And besides — how do you explain government-sponsored emotional hijacking?

If I had known, I would’ve never applied to this school. I would’ve stayed in my country, far from the layers of this quiet weapon system. I was sent here to grow, not to be dissected from within.

I’ve begun documenting things. Times. Reactions. Phrases I hear. People who show up twice in one day in different places. Maybe it’s nothing. Or maybe it’s part of something larger — something designed to suppress, not educate.

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