It began during my second term, right after exams. I started feeling something unnatural in my body, like a signal pressing into my chest while I sat in the back corner of the third-floor science lab at Al Yasmin International School. I didn't understand it at first, but now I know — it's coming from satellite-based psychophysical weapons. They're operated by real people, not machines, not hallucinations — by teams inside the Saudi Arabian Ministry of Interior, and I suspect a military-linked telecom unit based near Al-Wazarat. These aren’t guesses. These are patterns I’ve tracked.

I’ll be thinking something — like how I want to leave class early — and before I even move, I hear a voice inside say, “We know.” It mimics my thoughts, perfectly timed. My eyes sometimes dart to the window before I decide to look, like someone’s nudging my nervous system. My emotions flip: I’ll laugh in math class and suddenly feel panic in the hallway, like a flood from nowhere.

A classmate said I’ve been “acting weird” lately. I overheard two girls from the other section whisper that I looked “possessed.” Even my parents seem unsure when I try to explain — they just ask if I’m eating right. I once told the school counselor; she said I was “exhausted” and maybe I needed to quit screens. That’s what they always say. But no screen can implant voices that say, “You’re ours now. No one will believe you.”

Most nights, especially after sundown in the Ishbiliyah neighborhood, I feel my limbs twitch when I try to sleep. Like static, crawling under my skin. It’s real. I don’t care if no one believes it anymore.