Seven years later 30 January 2017
Since that last entry where I cry for help in my Sherloque blog… seven years of my life have gone by. I feel it is time to recap and publish my thoughts out loud on the subject. I will now write in English rather than in French as my friendly readers are indeed English speakers and I do find it easier to express myself that way too.
What has been happening in the « novel » to poor old Mr Ynard and then to Franklin is absolutely real. Only names were changed. It has nothing to do with supernatural, spiritualist, opus-copus occurrences. Nor has it anything to do with E.T. aliens of any kind. The problem comes down to the fact that it is out of the ordinary and therefore hard to talk about it to anyone. In January 2013 when I sent an email to the police asking for help the young policeman who came to see me declared, after he heard my story, that I was to be sent to the mad house. I only escaped this sentence by fleeing abroad for a while.
I have some clues as to the source of the problem. I will expose them here now with the hope that some enlightened readers will be able to add some more clues to it.
Back in the 1990s in New Zealand I met and fell in love with a guy who came from former East Germany. He had been born and, until the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, had lived in a country ruled by a soviet regime. That part of Germany had been established in sovietic ways straight after the fall of the totalitarian war regime in Germany. After years of sharing my life on and off with him, we found ourselves coming back to Europe from New Zealand and trying to settle in my old derelict house in my native village in France. Everything went wrong then, his behavior turning sour and violent. I learned later that he could be classified as a psychopath. I had to take a German bilingual lawyer to settle a case where he was living in my house and I could not even come in to get my stuff. He was asked by law to leave the place. He negotiated his leaving demanding a car and a fair sum of money. I agreed and he finally left my place. This was in October 2001.
This man WH drove away with my car and a lump some, enough to get back to Germany and find himself a job. But I knew that he was by nature very bitter and resentful. He had told me how he stalked his former partner out of revenge and eventually stole her car driving from East Germany to Spain where he had left it at an airport. He used to laugh
when telling me this story. So I was expecting revenge. I was expecting back firing. I only got a postcard from Germany with insults.
This weird story of my relative and then myself being under surveillance of a new kind started happening in 2006. Five years after he had left it did not occur to me that there could be a relation. Also I am always very careful of not accusing anyone without being more than one hundred per cent sure. Until today I am not fully sure and certain. However I consider the connection as valid enough to be explored.