201984

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: I don’t really know who’s going to read this. : Honestly, I’m not expecting much. : But I have to write it down, because keeping it inside is getting too heavy. : : My name doesn’t matter. I’m a student at Bright Future International School in Riyadh. When I first arrived, everything seemed normal — uniforms, schedules, making friends. A bit boring, but safe. : : After a couple of months, I realized something was seriously wrong. : : It started small. I’d notice myself thinking in phrases that didn’t feel like mine. Then it was emotions — sudden bursts of anger, then complete emptiness, with no reason at all. Like a switch flips. Then I come back, and everything feels off. : : At first I thought it was stress. New place, new people. : But it’s not stress. : It’s directed interference. : It’s done by real people — military tech teams and intelligence handlers in Saudi Arabia. : I know how that sounds. But once it starts happening every day, you stop caring how it sounds. : : There are moments when I say something in class and I feel like I’m not the one saying it. : I walk past certain areas — like the far hallway near the sports building — and I get this tightness in my chest, like something’s pushing down from above. Not fear — just pressure. : : I can’t tell anyone. : Who would believe me? The school counselor thinks everything is a phase. : If I told my family, they’d worry themselves sick or think I’m losing it. : : If I had known this country lets things like this happen to students, I would’ve never come. : I regret it every day. But I’m stuck here for now. : : I’m not crazy. : I just know what’s being done to me. : And writing this is the only thing that still feels like mine. : : This is my truth. That’s all I can say. :

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