Auction Block

Thursday 11:00 P.m.
I met my present family through the auspices of the auction block.  I was sold in an auditorium, I remember.  It was not in a far away exotic location but in some type of auditorium.  As my memory serves me it looked much like the auditorium in which we attended lectures for the first year of university. The first year was the qualifying year in which a large amount of students would be let into the program.  The auditorium sat about 300 people, as I recall.  At the end of the first year of university, the number of students would be drastically reduced. Be that as it may, the auditorium in which I was sold looked like that to me: give or take a couple of details.  It could have been the same size or a fair amount smaller like the auditorium we had in high school.  And it could have had seats like a colosseum arranged in different levels like a bowl.  Ir they could have been approximately the same level.  The event took place a long time ago and I was quite confused at the time.

I remember other stuff as well.  I was sold as a package deal.  That meant, that although I was auctioned off almost naked, I came with stuff.  One thing was a Canadian Passport.  Other stuff was an inheritance,  Two houses, stocks and bonds, money, or course and other things like clothes and personal possessions.

I am still much confused about the details.  My memory serves me on and off.  I remember something quite out of context, very clearly. And then I don't remember other details at all. I don<t remember how I got there. I don't remember how I got back. I don't remember exactly where it was except that it looked like an auditorium that I was familiar with.  I vaguely remember being in the same country that I lived in but that could be wrong.

So I don't remember how much I and my possessions were auctioned off for.  I remember that a bigshot with money took the stocks and bonds.  He said although they were written in someone else's name he knew what to do with them. So much for them being written in my parents name. I remember more important stuff being given away to important looking people and then some underlings hanging around for other smaller things. Like my clothes. there was one woman, I live with her in the same residence now, who said she would pay top dollar for my clothes  She had a buyer.  Personal items were given to the person who really beat me up.  I don't know what she did with them. he big shots with the cocks they took the large sums of money and couldn't care less for the things that people surround themselves with on dan to day existence.

I remember I was bought by someone who became my family members, I believe.  He waned to marry me and I refused, I sort of remember.  I remember being forced to live outside for what seemed an eternity, in the bitter cold. When I came inside again, I did anything they said.  Including accepting these animals as my family.  And it didn't stop there. After I accepted to accept these people as my clan my head was smashed so that I was alive but permanently confused.  This I remember with horror It took several men to hold me down.  One sold donuts to people in our country house I remember.

I didn<t have a passport for years so I don<t know what happened to the original passport.  I believe the people came through   Israel. they came a little while after I came back from a vacation with my school. They waited enough to hide.  I remember something else: can the head cookie have been in the French foreign legion in Algiers? I don't know.

As for the family I have now life has gone on.  Apparently for I am alive.  What I remember about life after being sold like that is the great difference of social ranking that became a reality in the family unit. Let me be more specific. When my father died, he left my brother a 750,000.00 home.  He left me enough money to continue living in a shelter for women. a shelter in which the rent is asked for on a day to day basis.  My brother will handle the money.

Another thing to put the situation more specifically. When my father knew he was dying, he took my brother and his family for a very expensive trip to visit Hungury and the Czech republic where my parents were born. I was taken for a weekend trip to see the whales in Bay Saint Paul and very nice restaurant meal with the family.

Friday 7:00 a.m.

As all this was (and is) happening throughout the years I am followed by less and less people.  But the same authorities are still present.  Not only that many people from my unhappy past have surfaced in very important and powerful positions.  There is a funnel when I go for help and if I ask f or a certain problem to be solved (such as dealing with learning how to live n an institution) The same old organizations with t he same old solutions (none) seem to surface.  A long time ago it became clear it was pretty useless to go to the police.

If you have read the article before you would understand that these various assaults will lead to screaming pain. As I went from guidance counsellor to police to civilians patrolling the streets to hospitals to institutions for the homeless Iwas followed by unrepentant and hostile agressors who in some way or other were clearly in the know about human trafficking (and my situation in it).

And still the years march relentlessly by. As I write these very words I fear for my life but then I do not know what to do to avoid what seems to be inevitable.  the powers that hold what little funds that permit me to live decades in a women shelter seem to put on an unceasing fight to withhold even these meagre funds.  The money that was given to me upon my parents death (which is farther and farther in the past) decrease all the time.  It seems to be a game to see to find  a way to give me less and less without having it be seen.  The idea that I was to receive $40,000.00 a years after expenses to live off of as an inheritance is completely ignored.  the person that handles the money I receive from the family has said clearly that he feels that upon retirement I should not receive a further penny from that source.  And this means that I will not be able to live in even the very poor shelter I continue to live in.

And if I do not have a shelter such as this there seems to be no recourse to me available than forced labor in (so-called willing) volunteer jobs or forced labor as an unpaid and anonymous lower level domestic.  And always the direction of me to associate with people who have carte blanche when it comes to humiliation, aggression abuse and even worse, forcing someone like me into ties with organized or/and petty criminal activities.  Retirement indeed..