The Warning of a Sleeper

This is a warning, meant for anyone who may have had a connection to the US military or government as a child. My own experience occurred in the early 1990's. What they did isn't something I can blame them for, I can even say that I understand their intent behind the project. It is their current actions that were beyond my control that I find myself less than thrilled with.
Actions that have caused me to go into hiding, knowing that if I'm ever caught by any government or power-seeking group, that I quite likely will be locked up permanently if not killed.
My father was a mid-level military officer, a brilliant man with a flair for math that was not missed by his superiors. He was also a devoted family man who loved to spend any extra time he could find with his children. I was his second child, a mere four year old in 1990 when he brought me to the base with him for the first time. He only had a brief meeting to attend that day and then hoped to spend the rest of the day with me, promising a ride on a ferry.
I have been told that I was an odd child, one that people knew was highly intelligent. My dad spoke proudly for several years after that day about how on that day, when he left me in his office for a few minutes with a picture book, I got up and went to the restroom. But rather than asking for directions, I looked at a floor map posted near the door for fire escape plans, and directed myself to the restroom then back. My father found out about this because one of his superiors saw this and asked him about it. Telling the man that I could in fact read maps was probably the second most dangerous thing to have ever occurred in my life.
My father had a top secret clearance and never thought he would be able to bring his children with him to the base for anything other than brief visits when he was dropping off paperwork or visiting the commissary. Following that day though he found himself receiving invitations to bring his children to the base several times a month, those offers including allowing us to gets tours of ships, the Officer's Club, and a number of other things. For my dad this meant he could have his children with him for more than just the two hours before we went to bed after he got home that he normally had with us. He accepted a large number of those offers.
My memory is an excellent one, partially eidetic, and I can easily recall random events from when I was two years old and have a solid grasp of a timeline by three and a half. Most of those visits were blurs to me, that began with me being taken for a 'bathroom break' from my siblings and returned to them with a reeling head. I didn't remember the 'bathroom' I had been taken to or most of the walk back. This scared me as a child and I came to dread those days that my dad went to the base and we were invited with him.
The invitations began to be spaced out further and further shortly after I started school, most of them in the summer, then ceased after I turned seven. When I was eight, my father retired from the military after 20 years. He was surprised when he continued to receive not just his pension, but an extra amount each month that was designated as 'Disability' despite him not being disabled. Being an honest man, he attempted to report the mistake but was assured that it was earned though for what injury he was never informed.
Life continued and my father's pension began to add up. I was proud of my father, outgrowing a lot of the discomfort I had associated with the service when I was younger, so much so that I considered joining myself. It would pay for college and be a good starting point for a career.
I took the ASVAB in high school, scoring a 99 on the test to no ones surprise. It seemed that a scholarship would be easily obtained into any field of study I wanted, but none was ever offered. Instead, I was contacted by a single recruiter who informed me that while an impressive candidate I was not what they were looking for.
Disappointed and with only my academic scholarships, I had to tackle school little by little since I refused to let my parents pay for it. I learned in that time that I had no future in retail, which unfortunately was the only area I could find a job in. I also discovered a love of Chemistry which eventually dominated my studies and my professors liked me as well.
It was during a discussion with one of my professors, a talented researcher from Europe, that he showed several pictures of the inner workings of a nuclear power plant while we were discussing his past research in Nuclear Chemistry. Things suddenly went dark for a minute and when I came to, I found myself in the man's office. My professor was shocked, demanding to know how I knew what I did, which confused me greatly.
My professor informed me that during our discussion, I had suddenly gone rigid and began to list off a number of reactors around the world and small 'alterations' that had been made in each. These alterations had consisted of everything from weaknesses in the facilities, the specifics in design for each, as well as nuclear materials and holding locations for US stockpiles across the planet.
To say that we were both terrified was to put it mildly, he was ready to call the FBI at that moment. What stopped him was me yelling that I needed to call my dad, see if he knew what had happened since he was a former military man. I had known of his Top Secret clearance for years but hoped that this wasn't his doing.
The conversation I had with my father that night was a tense one, he couldn't get the same reaction from me but was more than willing to believe that something happened, especially since I was being backed up by my professor. He decided to make a few calls to people he believed he could trust. This was the most dangerous decision he had made in regards to me.
Despite being an outstanding officer and brilliant man, my father put a bit too much faith in his former superiors being forthright, a mistake he came to regret very shortly after his first call. The only reason I'm still free is because one of those men lived up to my father's expectations, the one who my father had admitted I could read maps to.
That man admitted to us that night, only an hour after my father began making phone calls, that he had been tasked with 'recruiting' children for a special project. The children had to be intelligent and easily followed in life without it being obvious.
The project was originally suggested in the 60's as a means of trying to ensure continued knowledge in case nuclear attacks were launched that did manage to wipe out the information centers of the US government. It was re-initiated in the late 1980's and early 1990's as the Soviet Union began to destabilize then collapse.
Terrified over the possible loss of knowledge due to either panic or attacks, the military and various branches of government had taken information and planted it into the memories of children through advanced hypnotic techniques. These 'Sleepers' would then be followed through life, carefully regulated. They could never enter the military or hold a government position, and if activated on accident, would be made to disappear.
My father was shocked, horrified, and disbelieving. His accusation of a lie was responded to by his former superior demanding to know if he actually thought that they had invited him to bring his children to the base so many times for his benefit when most others did not receive such favors, especially with the frequency of his.
As I said before, my father is a brilliant man and he didn't need to ask too many more questions, only look at me and I admitted to the 'bathroom breaks' that had made me nervous as a child.
We were informed that he had managed to delay the alerts being sent by the other officers my father had called, but we had 20 minutes at best before it was known that I had been partially activated. And since I carried nuclear secrets, there would be no hesitation over my detainment.
My father didn't even stop to hang up the phone, simply ran upstairs, an action I hadn't seen him do since he'd had a knee replacement, and come back down mere seconds later with a wad of cash that he shoved into my hands before grabbing my backpack. He removed my credit card, debit card, driver license, and AAA card as well as anything else that had my name on it as well as my phone.
His final order to me as he shoved the bag back into my hands was that I was never to call them again. I was to run, leaving my car behind, avoid all cameras, and dye my hair the first opportunity I got. I'd have to make my own way to the seedier side of town and do whatever I had to in order to obtain a new identity.
The last time I saw him was as he shoved me out of the door. My mother was upstairs and the last I saw her, she was leaning over the banister, demanding to know what was happening.
I didn't see the military or the FBI arrive because I acted like the obedient daughter I had been raised to be and followed my father's instructions, leaving my car behind and racing through the woods to the next subdivision where I caught a bus, only staying on it for two stops before abandoning it and taking off on foot again.
That was almost two years ago.
The money my father gave me that night lasted almost eight months, even with the purchase of a new identity and a cheap used car to allow me to get farther than I likely would have otherwise. I've had to work a number of jobs under the table, ones where they don't care whether or not you have a social security number. The pay is always bad and I've been swindled more than once since they can tell I won't be able to call the cops.
I've tried to activate myself multiple times, intent to try to make some form of bargaining chip for myself in the form of a deadman's switch, one that will release the dirty secrets about the US's nuclear program to foreign powers unless I'm allowed to continue with my life. This has never been successful due to me not knowing how to fully activate myself to a conscious level and I can't record myself since those who 'programmed' my unconscious made sure to 'safeguard' the secrets by making me try to destroy all recording devices nearby, something I realized after four attempts that ended with three smashed recorders and two destroyed phones.
Not that it matters anymore. I ran out of time to make a viable bargaining chip when earlier today, I finally gave in to human curiosity and love by trying to call one of my siblings to ask about our parents. The line clicked and buzzed horribly, a sign that I had read up on as indicating a tap.
Though I hung up immediately, I knew it was too late. I was near the border to Canada and attempted to cross, but was turned back for some reason.
Driving to a nearby town, I intended to ditch my clunker of a car and walk when I noticed that I had a tail. Trying to not draw any more suspicion, I used a chunk of the money I had left to check in to a motel. But it seems like this was too little, too late.
I can see that car still, it's in the parking lot, circling the lot. I don't know who is in that car, or what my fate will be, so I'm writing this warning to all Sleepers. You won't know you're a Sleeper and you'll appear completely normal to the rest of the world as well.
But you can be partially activated at any moment. Many of you will have secrets buried in your minds that governments all over the world would kill to have, or kill to keep silent.
If you have ever been around the military or government as a child, then watch out. If you can't account for even a few minutes, then prepare to run also. And if your parent/s receive any extra money for any reason, realize it is compensation for using you. If you review these things and feel you might be a Sleeper, then pack a bag to always keep with you and make a plan for your escape. Be prepared to have to leave everything you own at any given moment, even after you run that first time, much like I intend to do now.
Canada is less than five miles away, and there are plenty of ways to disappear there. That car passes this room every 78 seconds, give or take 3 seconds, I'm on the first floor, and there's a wooded area just past the parking lot. As soon as I post this, I'll leave everything again, including this computer turned on, and wait for that car to pass. They could be getting reinforcements any moment or charge the door, so this may be the only chance I get.
I've gotten pretty good at running by now, but to all other Sleepers, I wish you luck. Keep sleeping and pray you are never activated.
Category:Mental Illness