(NSFW) Rape vs Living With Autism
aka Why I became a writer of Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape-Revenge Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi featuring an Autistic main character
NSFW — Uhm…Let’s talk about rape and pychos local church nuts who have flip outs for thinking an author is writing about them.
I’m going to mark this page not safe for work because, we’re gonna talk about rape.
So, it is March 8, 2024, and just now, the man who raped me five decades when I was 12, showed up in a rage because one of my relatives told him, that I listed his name, her name, and the names of several other people on an article I wrote 3 hours ago. And according to him a bunch of my relatives are on FaceBook having a fit about what he did or rather, having a fit that I had the audacity to tell anyone what he did, because as one of my uncles put it in his FaceBook post:
“Sluts deserve to be raped and rape deserves to be swept under a rug” — one of my uncles 5 minutes ago on FaceBook.
Let that sink in for a minute.
Now, here’s something else, these FaceBook posts are claiming that I accused him of raping me, saying I listed his name on my latest article. But I did not. You can go read the article for yourself. There are ZERO names on it. Here it is:
Can you tell me where exactly it is those names are to be found?
While I HAVE said many times throughout my life that I was raped, I have NEVER ONCE IN MY ENTIRE LIFE said WHO did it. EVER.
Let that sink in for a minute.
Yes. The man they contacted IS the one who raped me, but my question now is this:
How did they know to contact THIS MAN SPECIFICALLY? There were 2,750 priests in that church.
There is absolutely ZERO way for anyone to know who he is, unless HE HIMSELF told them.
Because I never told them.
And I am now left asking: IF my aunts and uncles and parents and cousins KNOW the identity of the rapist, why has none of them ever done anything about it?
But also, they are saying I accused THEM of well, all the things on that list… but again, there are no names there and also it’s not a list, but since they want to call that page a list, let’s make THIS new page and put a list on it and, as you shall soon see, it’s not POSSIBLE for me to NAME my attackers, because I do not know who my attackers were. I did not SEE my attackers. I CAN NOT identify my attackers.
The people right now having meltdowns on FaceBook, saw what they EXPECTED to see me write, instead of seeing what I ACTUALLY wrote.
I have no reason to name them as my attackers, especially given that I have never met any of my relatives, do not know the names of my relatives, and am unable to identify ANY of my relatives from some random Joe off the street.
So, why are they saying I accused them, when I don’t even know them or their names?
Odd. But they ARE saying that I listed their names on Medium. And I have not. Go back and look at all my articles. You can see I have not. You can see they are lying about what it is I said here on Medium, but my question now is: WHY?
Are they ACTUALLY reading MY articles, as they claim? Or is there someone else here on Medium with a different account claiming to be me?
They specified the article I just published. And I only published one article today. This one:
Which DOES in fact talk about rape, but it does NOT say the things they are claiming I said. Which leads me to ask WHAT EXACTLY are they reading? And where are they finding these so call lists of names they are talking about? I aim so confused by the things they are saying right now, but I often am.
It’s common since Nov 2021, for my relatives to have fits of FaceBook, a few times a week, that involve a lot of claiming I said things about specific people… but the odd thing is I never said the things they claim, and I have never heard of any of the people they claim I’m talking about.
I don’t know what it is they are reading that they think is me, but, as I have before:
There is such a HUGE problem of people making fake “eelkat” accounts impersonating me, here are the links to my ACTUAL accounts:
eelkat.com | Amazon AC1 | Amazon AC2 | FB Profile | FB Page | FB Short Story Writers Group | Google Business | Google Developers | Gravatar | GumRoad | Instagram | Itch.io | LinkedIn | Medium | Myspace | NexusMods | PayPal | Pinterest | Quora | Reddit 1 | Reddit 2 | Spoonflower | Steam | TikTok | Tumblr | Twitch | Twitter | YouTube | Zazzle |
If you find an account online claiming to be me, that is NOT one of these profiles linked above, there is a 99.99% chance it is a FAKE account impersonating me and only a .001% chance it’s actually me and I just forgot to link it here.
If you are talking to someone claiming to be me on some account not linked there, it is NOT me and you NEED to report the account to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 because he IS aware these fake accounts are showing up, and it appears they are being created by people who are trying to cover up my son’s murder by creating weird crazy accounts in my name to try to make me look crazy. Like all those weird UFO and alien abduction accounts that were created, even though I do not believe in UFOs and have never claimed to be abducted by aliens. The FBI believes the plethora of fake “eelkat” accounts showing up everywhere are being created by friends and family of my son’s murderer.
But… what names?
What list?
What are they even talking about?
And who even are these people?
There are 20+ of them on FaceBook right now, they CLAIM to be relatives, but I’ve never met my relatives, so I can not confirm if any of them is related to me or not. I’ve never heard any of their names before, so I’ve no clue who they are. But they CLAIM that I listed THEM SPECIFICALLY BY NAME on my Medium pages?
What?
What are they even talking about?
The REASON I am making a page about this is because they are posting DEATH THREATS and saying they are going to GO TO MY YARD to vandalise it. So, yeah, now I’m here on Medium writing a page about the threats these weird ass strangers are posting on FaceBook, because I have no clue who these people are, what they are even talking about, or why they are so worked up in raging frenzies.
Clearly they have details about the rape and vandalism that was NEVER MADE PUBLIC which indicates they ARE guilty of being involved, but who the hell are they and why do they suddenly think I listed off their names, and WHERE is this so called list of names they are even talking about? I can’t find it. I don’t know what they are talking about.
These people are absolutely terrifying and I don’t know why they are having these meltdowns, but to go back in time and recap what it is they are referring to, here’s what happened:
I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
And to deal with what he did I started writing the genre Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape-Revenge Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi featuring an Autistic main character, specifically so that I could write after the rape revenge scenes of the rape victim going serial killer on the rapists ass.
Quaraun gets raped by random one shot characters in dozens of stories. He later after being raped, hunts the rapist down, chops them up, and gives them to his Master Chef Unicorn, the Unicorn cooks the rapist and Quaraun and BoomFuzzy eat the rapist. BoomFuzzy grinds up the rapists bones to make flour which he uses to bake gingerbread cakes out of, which he sells out of his food truck.
I wrote 138 novels, 423 novellas, and 2k+ short stories that is that one plot over and over again. I don’t write anything else.
I write that to deal with the fact that I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
When I turned 18 he said I was too old for him and he was feeling guilty and needed to turn over a new leaf. Turning over a new leaf, involved him dragging me to the SACO WARD Bishop's office to call me a prostitute and demand I never be allowed to have a temple recommend (I’m a Mormon and so was he. Keep in mind the emphasis on SACO WARD — because I’ll explain that in a minute.)
The SACO WARD Bishop told his SACO WARD wife I was a prostitute.
His SACO WARD wife told the SACO WARD Relief Society I was a prostitute.
And from the time I was 18 years old, for well over 40 year, and continuing on still to this day, I am bullied and harassed offline and online by 275 women from the Cape Elizabeth Ward, The Portland Ward, The Saco Ward, The Cornish Branch, and The Sanford Wards of The Southern Maine Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. With them calling me such names as slut, whore, sex fiend, and other choice words.
October 16, 2006 this group of women put a grease fryer bomb in my bedroom and blew up my house at 1AM while I was asleep. This house:
That was when I started wearing a wig, because the fire from the bomb, a grease fryer stuffed full of fly tapes and rusty nails, burned off all of my hair.
The bomb was placed in THIS room:
…which I was locked in, as per usual. I was locked in this room from the time I was 8 until I was 31 years old. The bomb was supposed to kill me, and it almost did. But someone saw the house on fire and called the fire department, and fireman saved my life. THAT was how I escaped from the room these people kept me locked in for 27 years. Had the bomb NOT blown a hole in the side of the wall, I would never have been able to get out of this room, and I’d likely still be in it right now. There were more then 40 padlocks on the door and the window had dozens of boards with hundreds of nails over it.
That room was WHY I never learned any kind of numbers or math, why I can not count. That room showed up the day I was taken out of school. I was never allowed to go back to school. I was only let out on Sundays to go to church, 3 hours a week, then immediately back inside that room.
That was also when the FBI arrived. Originally Laura, the FBI agent who was murdered February 2021 and replaced by Andy Drewer who heads the investigation today.
The house, the yard, and that room were roped off while police officers and FBI agents came in and out of it daily. April 17, 2007, the same backhoe which would return in 2013 to drive over my yellow house, arrived at night to drive over this blue house, which sat beside the yellow house. The backhoe destroyed MOST evidence of the room, but not all, as the police and FBI had already removed many items and already had many photos.
If you have any information about the bomb please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 the bomb BUILDER was already found, arrested, and serving a 14 year prison sentence. He was arrested June 2016, a full decade after he built the bomb. He was also one of my uncles. But he only built the bomb. He did not put it in the building. The FBI is currently seeking information as to WHO removed the 40+ padlocks off the door to that room, and placed a yellow grease fryer full of fly tapes and rusty nails, in that room, at 1AM on October 16, 2006. Not many people had keys to those padlocks, so it does narrow the suspect list quite a lot.
The FBI is also seeking any information about ANY PERSON who ever set foot in the room in question. If you have any information please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
This is an active ongoing murder investigation.
EVERYONE who had any knowledge or connection to this room IS CURRENTLY BEING INVESTIGATED — and they have a long list already. The FBI is looking for any and all leads, leading to the arrest of this woman who murdered my son on November 14, 2013, and they believe she may have had some connection to this room:
After the bomb a lot of people were tracked down by the FBI, including Mrs Mullen, an Old Orchard Beach school teacher, who had an interesting story. One I had never heard before. According to her, when I was 8 years old, I was kidnapped from her classroom. And according the the FBI, there was quite a large police investigation looking for me in 1983.
Mrs Bureau (K5), Mrs Smith (G1), Mrs Baudouin (G2), and Mrs Mullen (G3), had been my school teachers. As it turns out, the police had interviewed and investigated all 4 of them, while looking for me, way back in 1983.
I do not remember being kidnapped out of school. But I do remember my mother having a huge fight in school with Mrs Mullen, my 3rd grade teacher, the day after Grammy Helen’s funeral. I was locked in that room the following day, and never allowed to go to school again.
I met with Mrs Mullen in 2010, she’s now very old, and was ecstatic to see me, and said she had spent years needling the police to look for me, but that the police had given up the search only a few weeks after I went missing. She said my being kidnapped out of her classroom had been a huge devastation to her and that she had lived with the guilt her whole life and was glad to finally see me after so many decades of fretting and worrying about what had happened to me.
The bomb of 2006 was when I started living under the 8x6 tarp, most people know me for:
Police officer Will Watson is the one who built the tarp-tent behind the house and stopped by daily from 2006 to 2015 to check in on me. Yes. I lived under the tarp for 9 years. Police officer Liz Coleman stopped by each week with bags of food.
While I was living under the tarp, my father went into a diabetic coma, was in the hospital for months, and when released from the hospital, was living in his green car, it being parked in front of the tarp. He too, was homeless. He too, escaped.
After the bomb, ALL of my mother’s relatives fled. The aunt and two uncles who had the keys to the padlocks of the room, vanished. To where I do not know. Both of those uncles are now dead. One died in 2013, the other in 2019. The aunt’s husband, an uncle I had never met, and did not know existed, until the FBI arrested him, was the bomb builder, and thus why that particular aunt’s entire family has been under scrutiny by police and FBI since the bomb.
With the death of the 2019 uncle, MOST of the violence stopped. Full cold turkey. Both offline and online harassment vanished completely. The FBI had arrested him for the creation of 27 fake “eelkat” accounts, ALL of the UFO and alien abduction “eelkat” accounts, had been made by him, and from the FBI investigation we now know he had been impersonating me online since AT LEAST 2007.
He was arrested in 2015, for stalking, harassment, and impersonation, but someone paid his $30k bail so he walked out of jail to continue creating fake “eelkat” accounts.
EVERYTHING stopped completely with his death in 2019. All vandalism, all death threats, all online harassment. EVERYTHING.
And then in November 2021, it started up again full force, lead by a woman, no one had ever seen before. With her arrival on the front porch screaming and yelling hysterically, arrived too, a MASSIVE onslaught of HUNDREDS of fake “eelkat” accounts on EVERY social media out there. The ISP location for many of them is New Zealand, so whoever is creating the bulk of them, they are doing so from a New Zealand internet connection. Which means the person creating this current mega shit ton load of fake “eelkat” accounts, most likely lives in New Zealand.
But, back to the local church group…
April 2007, a large group of these local Relief Society women arrived at my farm and beheaded 75 of my pet bantam rooster, and tied their headless bodies from rope nooses in all the trees all over my yard.
May 2010 this same group of church women cut my car in half, loaded it onto a flatbed and stole it:
August 8, 2013 this same group of women hired a backhoe to drive over the house which replaced the house the bomb blew up:
November 14, 2013 that same group of women, armed with golf clubs used said golf clubs to murder my son and sever my spine leaving me crippled.
ALL THIS HAPPENED BECAUSE A RAPIST HIGH PRIEST SOUGHT TO COVER HIS ASS BY LYING ABOUT ME AND CALLING ME A PROSTITUTE!
And there’s been more. A lot more. The most recent was poisoning killing of my dog Mickey in May 2023 which he died from July 10, 2023, in spite of the vets efforts to save him. More than 200 similar such attacks, done by members of the churches this priest attends, because…
When I turned 18 he said I was too old for him and he was feeling guilty and needed to turn over a new leaf. Turning over a new leaf, involved him dragging me to the SACO WARD Bishop’s office to call me a prostitute and demand I never be allowed to have a temple recommend (I’m a Mormon and so was he. Keep in mind the emphasis on SACO WARD — because I’ll explain that in a minute.)
The SACO WARD Bishop told his SACO WARD wife I was a prostitute.
His SACO WARD wife told the SACO WARD Relief Society I was a prostitute.
And from the time I was 18 years old, for well over 40 year, and continuing on still to this day, I am bullied and harassed offline and online by 275 women from the Cape Elizabeth Ward, The Portland Ward, The Saco Ward, The Cornish Branch, and The Sanford Wards of The Southern Maine Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. With them calling me such names as slut, whore, sex fiend, and other choice words.
THAT, is what the women flipping out on FaceBook right now, are talking about. THAT is what those gossiping busybody biddie bitches are all oooooooooh the poooooor priest about.
Victim shaming is what the women of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine EXCELL at.
Victim bullying is what the women of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine are doing.
They are hiding behind their church and their god to do it.
But here’s a thing to think about: If they TRULY BELIEVE in their god and his teachings:
Their god teaches to not lie, because liars burn in hell. Their god sees the lies they spread about me. Their god knows the truth. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for the lies they spread about me.
Their god teaches to not be a busy body or gossip, because busy bodies and gossips burn in hell. Their god sees the gossip they spread about me. Their god knows the truth. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for being busy bodies spreading gossip about me.
Their god teaches to not harm, because violent people are evil sinners who will burn in hell. Their god sees the violence they have done to me, my family, my cars, my houses, my yard, my pets, they. Their god knows the truth. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for ALL the violent, hateful, evil bullying, harassing acts they have done to me.
Their god teaches to not kill, because there is no repentance for taking a life an all who kill burn in hell. Their god sees that they murdered my son, and poisoned my dog, they tried to kill me first with a bomb and then with golf clubs. Their god knows the truth. Their god sees what they do and hears what they say. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for the transgressions they have done again me.
One can not hide from the truth.
You can try.
And you know this message at the end of all my pages:
Because there is such a HUGE problem of people making fake “eelkat” accounts impersonating me, here are the links to my ACTUAL accounts:
eelkat.com | Amazon AC1 | Amazon AC2 | FB Profile | FB Page | FB Short Story Writers Group | Google Business | Google Developers | Gravatar | GumRoad | Instagram | Itch.io | LinkedIn | Medium | Myspace | NexusMods | PayPal | Pinterest | Quora | Reddit 1 | Reddit 2 | Spoonflower | Steam | TikTok | Tumblr | Twitch | Twitter | YouTube | Zazzle |
If you find an account online claiming to be me, that is NOT one of these profiles linked above, there is a 99.99% chance it is a FAKE account impersonating me and only a .001% chance it’s actually me and I just forgot to link it here.
The FBI has been looking into those fake accounts. They arrested the Relief Society President of the Saco Ward Church, because she is the one who has been running most of them. She also was found to be the owner and driver of the 4 door white truck, from the 2016 attacks.
But clearly with all the kicking and screaming they are doing tonight on FaceBook, clearly they KNOW their own guilt and are doing their gaslihiing bull shit doubletime today.
And yet, I don’t know what ticked them off. I know what they are SAYING ticked them off.
They are sending me messages saying it was an article here on Medium.
So, let’s LOOK at that article they are flipping out about.
Here it is:
That article is talking about The Quaraun series.
As I said already, to deal with what this church group did I started writing the genre Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape-Revenge Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi featuring an Autistic main character, specifically so that I could write after the rape revenge scenes of the rape victim going serial killer on the rapists ass.
Quaraun gets raped by random one shot characters in dozens of stories. He later after being raped, hunts the rapist down, chops them up, and gives them to his Master Chef Unicorn, the Unicorn cooks the rapist and Quaraun and BoomFuzzy eat the rapist. BoomFuzzy grinds up the rapists bones to make flour which he uses to bake gingerbread cakes out of, which he sells out of his food truck.
I write rape scenes from Quaraun’s point of view, him being the rape victim. The reader sees rape through the pain and terror of the victim’s trauma. The reader sees the rage of BoomFuzzy, Quaraun’s husband who violently protects Quaraun. The readers sees the long term decades of trauma Quaraun lives with from being raped, his phobias and terrors that result from it. And the reader sees Quaraun finally hunt down his rapists and torture them to death, the rapist ending up cooked as food served in Faerie Feasts of the UnSeelie Court.
I write about rape.
I write about rape victims getting revenge. And I do it with with brutal Vore scenes of the rapists being eaten.
My main character Quaraun is a serial killer. He kills rapists. That’s also why he wears pink. Pink is the colour used in real world Voodoo and Hoodoo rituals to summon spirits of retribution against rapists. Voodoo and Hoodoo Retribution Rituals against rapists are set up with pink candles on pink altar clothes with poppets of the rapist bound with pink silk ribbons. Quaraun is a practitioner of Voodoo, and his entire focus is on killing rapists, then taking their souls and using necromancy to turn them into his undead minions. Thus why he wears pink. Thus why he is The Pink Necromancer.
I hate rape.
I hate rapists.
I hate bullies who torment rape victims.
I am a survivor.
But I have ZERO support.
No one CARES what happened to me.
No one.
My mother does not care.
My father does not care.
My mother’s siblings are the biggest ring leaders of the harassment.
No one cares and they go out of their way to make sure I know it.
They stalk me, online and offline. Endless none stop harassment. Look at what they are doing on FaceBook, right now, right thus very minute. My oooohhh soooo loving family. Doo those posts they have been making steady, non stop for the last 3 hours sound very kind or caring or loving or family like to you?
Let’s copy one of their posts and paste it here, so you can see how much my relatives care:
“You fucking Competition Bitch! You’re unloved! Unwanted! No one loves you! No one will ever care! You fucking four eyed retard! You are unloved and unwanted! You’re a mistake!”
They’s been posting those on my FaceBook and their FaceBooks and Twitters for the past 3 hours, because I wrote this:
Which is why I am now writing this page you are reading now.
I do not understand why they will not leave me alone.
I do not understand the motive behind the endless steady DAILY psycho deranged harassment.
I have ZERO contact with any of them, and newsflash, I blocked them on FaceBook back in 2010, and you can see they have now created alt accounts to get around being blocked. so they can continue to harass me.
I do not respond to them, I just block them, and continue on with my life, but then they show up at my house!
November 24, 2021 they showed up at my apartment and cut all the wires off the building. What the fuck? I still don’t know what they did it.
Clearly someone is going to them and stirring them up, because they always show up in my driveway in a big group, 20, 40, or like the April 10, 2015 attack when there were 78 people in that group, in my yard, filling my motorhome with 500 gallons of feces — five hundred gallons of feces! What the fuck is wrong with these people?
From June 2001 to June 2015 a green construction dump truck arrived at my yard each week to dump hundreds of black trash bags of garbage, hundreds of wooden pallets, and hundreds of car tires on my land.
March 31, 2015, I had the garbage removed. It cost TWELVE THOUSAND dollars to do so. The pile of garbage stood TWELVE feet tall, THIRTY feet wide, and ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY FIVE feet long. And all of it was put there by that green dump truck.
May 15, 2015, Cleo’s head was nailed to the door of my motorhome, her arms and legs nailed over the windows, and her intestines braided into a garland and hung on the awning.
These women are evil.
June 15, 2015 a white haired man, small, skinny, about 5'6", the hair looked like a very bad Halloween mad Scientist wig, wearing huge dark glasses and driving a huge dark green construction dump truck, the same one that had been arriving since 2001, now arriving for monthly for 15 years, with a mural on the doors, and silver and black striped hood, drove up in my driveway, and started yelling at me to move my motorhome, citing it was in his way of hauling a load of garbage to dump on my land. When I asked him to leave, he accused me of being a squatter, claimed HE owned my land, reached into the drivers door of the truck, pulled out a rifle, which he called “my gopher gun” and started shooting.
September 12, 2015, that same man returned with a group that called itself “Iron Man”. The group was bicycle riders HUNDREDS of them, all wearing pink ballet tutus, and rainbow fairy wings, like the kind you get at the dollars store for children’s birthday parties. The men in pink tuts drove their bicycles in circles around my driveway while chanting: “Pink is gay, kill the gayz, remember Saco Shaw’s, too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach. Kill or be killed, remember Saco Shaw’s, too gay for the family friendly town of Old Orchard Beach” While NINE 4-door white pick-up trucks, one of them driven by the white haired man whom had previously driven the green dump truck, drove back and forth, shooting assault rifles. They filled my neighbors shed with bullet holes. The white haired man and a woman with very, very, very, extremely long red curly hair came into my yard, both screaming and yelling transgender hate slurs with him chatting, while pointing to : “That thing is Ken’s son, look at how it is dressed!” The Old Orchard Beach Police lead by officer Timmy DeLuca chased them away.
After that, DAILY, every time I went to work at Scarborough WalMart, three of those original nine 4-door-white pick-up trucks, would surround my car on the Pane Road in Scarborough, one behind ramming my Volvo from the back, while the other 2, on either side, ramming my Volvo from the side. This continued from September 2015 to June 2017, when the FBI arrested The Old Orchard Beach Police Department Dispatcher, who also worked at the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall, and also was the Relief Society President of the Saco Church of Jesus Christ of Later day Saints. She and her son, were two of the 4-door white truck drivers. She owned the 4-door white truck that was the ring leader of the others. In addition to her and her son, two other were also arrested, one was a cousin of mine. In total 4 of the nine 4-door white trucks were confiscated by police and FBI and 4 drivers, 1 woman and 3 bald men, were arrested.
This woman, had been my mother’s Visiting Teacher for close to 30 years. Her husband my mother’s Home teacher, nearly as long. Her husband had been the Bishopric counselor for over a decade. Leaders in our church. Leaders in our church, who it turned out, where leaders of the decades of harassment, vandalism, and terrorist attacks. Police said they can connect her to well over a HUNDRED of the attack on my farm at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, including the bomb of October 16, 2006, which the say was her idea. According to police, they said, she proudly bragged to them, that God gave her a revelation commanding her to punish me for the crimes of witchcraft and prostitution. The police said she has been the one going church to church stirring church women up into a frenzy. The police said that she also lead a FaceBook Group that was devoted to making memes which all started with the words “This is how I am going to kill EelKat…”. Police said the FaceBook group had over 2k members and the members were ALL locals of York County, Maine, most of them from one of 5 churches, all 5 of which are located in Biddeford, Maine.
The police also found 27 FaceBook accounts, that she was connected to, but that were run by one of my uncles, all 27 accounts were impersonating me. All of them were either UFO accounts, alien abduction accounts, Wiccan accounts, or witchcraft accounts.
The FBI also arrested a man, whom they said was the Bishop’s first counsellor, whom according to the police, had created bank accounts in my name and was using them to embezzled money from the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall. They said he stole $THIRTY-million in Old Orchard Beach tax money out of the Town Hall bank accounts. He got sent to prison. This man, a stranger whom I had never heard of before, had, according to police, a website where he had claimed I was Stephenie Meyers, and claimed I was his third of ten wives. The website was a petition site to try to legalize polygamy. All of the women on his list were authors. None of them had ever heard of him. He had created fake bank accounts for every woman on the list. All of the women he did this to were all Mormon authors. According to police, his ACTUAL REAL wife, was the assistant counselor of the Relief Society President whom had owned and driven the 4 door white truck.
I’ll note here that I attended only 2 churches. The Cape Elisabeth Ward from 1975 to 2001. And the Sanford Ward from 2001 to 2013.
I have never attended the Saco Ward.
Remember when I said this:
When I turned 18 he said I was too old for him and he was feeling guilty and needed to turn over a new leaf. Turning over a new leaf, involved him dragging me to the SACO WARD Bishop’s office to call me a prostitute and demand I never be allowed to have a temple recommend (I’m a Mormon and so was he. Keep in mind the emphasis on SACO WARD — because I’ll explain that in a minute.)
The SACO WARD Bishop told his SACO WARD wife I was a prostitute.
His SACO WARD wife told the SACO WARD Relief Society I was a prostitute.
Now comes the time to explain it.
That Bishop was Saco Ward Bishop Harmon. I never seen him before the priest dragged me into his office, and have never seen him since.
I do not know, to this day, why the priest did this.
The rape happened in the Cape Elisabeth Ward. Mitchel was Bishop. He never confessed to the Bishop of OUR ACTUAL CHURCH. He confessed to the Bishop of a church FORTY MILES AWAY, a Bishop neither of us knew (or so I thought).
I mention this, because police also found during this arrest raid an odd website. A website which stole photos of me and my cars off my actual website, and used them to pretend to be me. The website was a Witchcraft site, selling “Death Spells” and “Curses” and included a blog giving advice on how to kill people with spells and curses.
A website that explains so many weird things people had said to and about me over the years, which I could never explain.
You see, for nearly two decades now, in spite of my being a 5th generation Mormon, locals have casually strolled up into my yard and asked me to give them a death spell or a curse to put on someone. They would tell me all this hate and vengeance they had for some person and why they needed a death spell. Me, baffled as heck, would have no clue what they were talking about. They'd say things like: “I see on your website that I should mix salt with cornmeal and…” or “I see you sell Death Spells for $500 would you take $300 instead since I came here to pick it up in person?”
I am NOT a witch. I do not know the first thing about witchcraft or Wicca or death spells or curses or any of the other crazy stuff these people would talk about.
These people doing this witchcraft request stuff started showing up summer 2001.
Throughout 2010 three FaceBook accounts kept posting death threats on my FaceBook wall, and then getting into thousand+ long comments comment thread wars with one of my FaceBook friends (a woman I’ve known for years, a fellow author). However, this was during the time I was living under the tarp, had no access to internet or electricity, so, had no way to check my Facebook account, so I did not know this “FaceBook war” was happening. But I was about to find out.
And then, in October 2010, a man shows up, claims to be my bishopric counselor (turns out he was the man FBI sent to prison for town tax embezzling). Says I have a meeting with my Bishop Dan Keening. But, who the hell is Dan Keening? Not my bishop. I never heard of a Bishop Keening before. Bishop Provincha of the Sanford Ward was my Bishop at the time, he’s since moved to Utah. Shaw is my current Bishop now in 2024. The man explains, no, not the Sanford Ward, the Saco Ward. But why the Saco Ward, a church I’ve never been to?
I go to the Saco Ward, to find out what is going on. Is this man really the bishop counselor, is Kenning really the Saco Bishop, who is Keening, and why would the Bishop of a church I’ve never attended want to talk to me.
I walk into the Bishop’s office and the first thing he says is: “You’re famous or something?”
“Uhm, yeah? I’m an author. I do book signing tours. Got a lot of fans.”
He pulls up FaceBook on his officer AlienWare Laptop, a computer that he brags he paid $10k for while he waits for it to boot up. He then shows me the Saco Ward Church’s FaceBook page… where TWENTY THOUSAND FaceBook users were actively in a full comment battle. He claimed they were all my followers attacking the Church. Uhm… in 2010 I had fewer than 700 followers on FaceBook so, nothing close to the 20k people he was pointing out.
My friend I mentioned before, she’s a REALLY big name Erotica author. Sells millions of books a month. Broke all kinds of world records. It was HER followers who were lashing out at the church’s FaceBook page, though, I did not yet know this.
He next says he had to change the churches phone number because they were getting “thousands of calls an hour” according to him, all telling him to “leave EelKat alone”.
He says again: “You’re famous or something.”
I respond: “Yeah, you should probably Google somebody before you make a fool of yourself harassing them on social media where anyone can see you do it.”
Suddenly, he slams the laptop shut and starts accusing me of being a witch. He rambles on and on and on and on and on, for a good twenty minutes about witches and witchcraft, and calls me the Great Apostate… then… he pulls out a letter.
An envelope from Salt Lake City, fancy gold letterhead. (And I still have it because he gave it to me and I never throw out letters). The letter is from the Prophet’s office at Salt Lat City Temple Square. In it, it calls me “The Red Letter Member of the Saco Ward”. What is a “Red Letter Member”? I don’t know. I never heard that term before or since. Also, I’m a member of the Sanford Ward, not the Saco ward, why is this letter saying I am a member of the Saco Ward?
I have the letter, but I don’t know if it is real or some kind of forgery… because… there is NO POSTAGE DELIVERY MARK on the envelope. And is supposedly from THE PROPHET HIMSELF? Really? LDS Mormon Prophets are not in the habit of writing letters. Also, that man who showed up in my yard, he’s the one who created FORGDED DOCUMENTS at the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall, with my name on them, thus HOW he got $$THIRTY MILLION tax dollars out of town hall bank account into fake bank accounts with my name. Did I mention the FBI arrested TWENTY-FOUR members of the Saco Ward for their involvement in embezzling tax money out of Old Orchard Beach Town Hall bank accounts, including the entire bishopric?
So, giving these men had a history of forged documents and went to prison for it, I question the authenticity of this letter from the prophet, though at the time it was happening in October 2010, I had no reason to think the letter was not real. These men were arrested by the FBI n September 2013, a month after the backhoe drove over my house and a month before my son was murdered and I was crippled. And the FBI believe the backhoe and my son’s murder to BOTH be somehow “retribution” by Saco Ward church members for the FBI arresting those 24 men and women from the Saco Ward.
24 people from the Saco Ward Church Congregation went to prison throughout 2013, for embezzling money from the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall. The arrests started in the spring and continued into the following year, continuing into at least 2017, and as far as I know the FBI is still arresting people involved with the tax fraud embezzling scheme now in 2024.
Had my name not shown up on HUNDREDS of the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall forged documents, I never would have known about ANY of any of this at all.
I found out about it when the FBI showed up at my tarp in 2013, and I was interviewed by 6 FBI agents. I had to go into the FBI office and have my signatures verified to match up against the forged documents.
The Saco Ward church members tried to make me and some guy named Ken Shoop, take the fall for the $THIRTY MILLION tax dollars the church stole from the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall. We had to go to court over this. There was a grand jury trail.
We were in the middle of this grand jury court case WHEN the backhoe drove over my house August 8, 2013 and WHEN my son was murdered November 14, 2013.
In fact, the backhoe driving over my house and my son being murdered was one of the primary REASONS the FBI dropped the charges against me!
And as of today, March 2024, that $THIRTY-million in Old Orchard Beach tax money stolen out of the Old Orchard Beach Town Hall bank accounts has not yet been found.
The FBI is still looking for that money.
The FBI is looking at EVERYONE in Old Orchard Beach, Scarborough, and the surrounding areas, whom has EVER had a connection to the Saco Ward Church’s members and whom has EVER had over a Million dollars in unaccounted for income.
In short there is a MASSIVE money laundering operation going on in the Town of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, and according to the FBI, my uncle who died in November 2019, used to work for a drug dealer in Connecticut, whom hired my uncle every winter to saw the copper pipes off motels and hotels in Old Orchard Beach. The FBI say that Connecticut drug gang, is who they think is behind all of this. And the FBI thinks the ONLY reason I ended up with my name dragged into all this, was because, the FBI believes my uncle was signing my name on all the paperwork he signed while he worked for that drug gang.
Which goes back to this room:
The FBI says they think he used my name, because back in 1997 when all of the tax fraud started (according to the FBI) I was still locked in that room and no one thought I would ever escape. So no one thought they would ever get caught if they put my name on everything they did.
I don’t know.
All I know, is a lot of strangers, keep showing up to harass me and vandalise my house and yard and cars, and I don’t know who they are or why they are doing it.
They murdered my son and crippled me and I don’t know why.
The FBI said too this: The REASON the Saco Ward got my name, was because in the 1990s, my uncle was one of the Saco Ward bishopric.
But back to October 2010 in the Saco Ward Bishop’s office: He’s gibbering about witchcraft, waving this letter around, calling me the Great Apostate, and saying he is going to “stop at nothing to destroy your life and make sure you never forget it”, then pulled out a bunch of papers from his desk, started waving those around while screaming that he was submitting the forms to Salt Lake City to have me excommunicated.
In the middle of all of this he rambles on about some witchcraft website and accuses me of being a coven high priestess of some Wiccan group, which he claims was info he got off my website.
I asked him what he’s even talking about, try to explain I know nothing of witchcraft and don’t know what he’s talking about, but he jumps from his desk, face red with rage, and starts screaming at the top of his lungs: “DON’T LIE TO ME YOU LITTLE WITCH! I READ THE ENTIRE SEA WITCH WEBSITE I KNOW YOU ARE THE SEA WITCH OF OLD ORCHARD BEACH!!!!!”
Uhm? What?
After that, for the next several years, people started showing up in my driveway addressing me as “The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach” and asking for curses and death spells.
It was just plain weird.
But then the police found all the websites and fake Eelkat accounts these people had created, including a site that was called: “The Sea Witch of Old Orchard Beach” and did in fact sell curses and death spells and WAS claiming to be me.
And I never know what they are talking about. They always ramble off names I never heard of and act like I am supposed to know who or what they are talking about.
What are they doing this?
What is wrong with them?
Everything, ALL OF IT, stopped November 2019 with the death of my uncle. And both the police and FBI were convinced that he had been the mastermind of all of it…
For two years, nothing. Not offline. Not online. No more attacks on my farm. No more attacks on my car. No more fake “eelkat” accounts online. Nothing. EVERYTHING stopped.
Until… 2 years later…
September 19, 2021 they showed up with a whole clear cutting crew and cut down thirty feet of my 15 foot tall cedar trees across my front lawn!
What is wrong with these people?
And for some reason they are hung up on two dates: February 21 and September 19. They show up on those two dates every year, never miss a year, and I don’t know why!
They have this huge reunion like gathering of show up in my yard and trash everything every single February 21 and September 19!
I have bitch relatives who think making fun of what happened to me is their full time job, as you can see from the shit they post daily on Facebook and Twitter since as far back as 2008.
I have bitch church congregations who think it’s their god given right to hit me, throw rocks at, cut the brake lines off my Volvo while I am in church, cut off the power steering fluid line off my Volvo while I am in church, pour etching acid on my windshield of my Volvo while I am in church, put 2x4 boards full of nails under the wheels of my Volvo in the parking lot while I am in church.
Shit head so called Christians blew up my house with a bomb, then hired a backhoe to drive over the house to replace it.
My 1974 AMC Gremlin is sitting in my yar, chopped up into thousands of 6 inch chunks, in 12 five gallon pails.
My 1964 Dodge 330 is obliterates nearly as bad!
That’s why my characters drive those cars in the books, The cars local church psychos took a sledgehammer to, became the cars driven by my characters, so my characters could drive said cars over the bullies who harass them.
My characters, Quaaraun, BoomFuzzy, and GhoulSpawn, do in my books, what I would like to see done to EVERYONE whom has ever raped anyone or bullied a rape victim.
I let my characters do in my books, the things we real world survivors can not do in real life.
I hate rape. And I hate bullies. So I created fictional characters who march their way across the planet mass murdering rapists and bullies. And so my website has a lot of rape related words on it.
I write very violent books, about characters who do very violent things. Characters who drink and smoke and do drugs and have sex and and have orgies on top of the shred remains of rapists. Because I hate rape.
And I hate rape, because I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
And to deal with what he did I started writing the genre Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape-Revenge Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi featuring an Autistic main character, specifically so that I could write after the rape revenge scenes of the rape victim going serial killer on the rapists ass.
And I write about my feelings and experiences with rape, through Quaraun, because I AM MUTE. And I have no other way of communicating.
If you want to know what is going on inside my head you HAVE to READ what I TYPE, because I have AUTISM and therefore am not capable of SPEAKING VOCALLY with my MOUTH.
Yes, I can write.
But guess what, I write BECAUSE I have AUTISM and I can not talk.
I write because that is how I communicate.
I write a lot because I am bedridden.
I write a lot because, being bedridden, I have no one to spend time with.
I have no one to talk to about being raped.
If I try to talk to anyone I know offline about it they say they don’t want to hear anything I have to say citing that nothing I say is either important or worth listening to. And they they have laugh feast with each other talking about the good old garage days, which I don’t know what the garage days even are that is something from before I was born, that they are just obsessed with talking about.
If I try to talk to anyone at the church or town hall or police department (both of whom are also mostly all my relatives that’s why I know them), they do the same thing.
I have tried so many times to tell people I know offline about what has been done to me but they will not listen, they pat me on the head, tos a piece of candy at me and say: “Oooooh looook, the little retard is trying to speak.”
I have no one to talk to about any of this.
That is why I write.
I can and do write all day long, morning, noon, and night, publishing 2 or 3 articles in the morning, 2 or 3 more in the noon, and 2 or 3 more in the night, because I am alone all day long. I have low functioning non verbal AUTISM and no one wants to spend time with a non verbal retard like me, so I write all day and all night because there is nothing else for me to do all day.
I just write.
That’s it.
I do no marketing.
I do no requesting followers.
I do no follow for follow.
I just got fed up with not one single person offline talking to me. So I started writing online because I can not be alone in this, there has to be someone else out there who has been through this and understands.
There has to be someone out there who can help me so these bullies stop hurting me.
There has to be someone out there who cares enough to make these people stop destroying my houses and cars, stop killing my babies. I’ve been pregnant 8 times now! Xavier-Octavian was baby #8. There has to be someone out there who will stop these people from killing my babies!
There has to be others who have been through this and no wat to do to make these people stop.
Look at how bad it has gotten! I was still able to walk in 2007 when I asked for help on Squidoo. But I can’t walk any more because these people used golf clubs to break my spine November 14, 2013.
This ain’t right!
What these people are doing to me is wrong.
Chopping up my cars, driving backhoes over my houses, crippling me with golf clubs, murdering my baby! It’s wrong! All of this is wrong! Why are these people being allowed to continue to hurt me like this? Why will no one help me?
That is why I write.
Because I have no one.
Not one single person.
People REFUSE to talk to me BECAUSE I AM MUTE.
They act like I am too stupid to think.
So I write. And vented that frustration in my books. I let Quaraun do and say the things I can not.
That is why I write.
Every day.
I have no one I can talk to offline.
Why?
Because I have to write everything down on a notepad and there is not one fucking damned person on this fucking planet who will sit down and read the words a mute person has to say!
So I typed those words up and published them on Squidoo.
And now here I am doing the same thing on Medium.
I have so many health issues from what the golf club woman did. Its more then just not being able to walk. I have to wear adult diapers. I have a crushed vertebrae bone punctured into my spinal column nerve bundle, that the doctors can not operate on, and every slightest move of any part of my body, causes sering nerve pain because of it.
It is a good day when I can sit up in bed at all.
I often can not sit up let alone get out of bed.
These women did that too me:
I don’t know who they are.
Thhey said their names. Shouted them at me. Acted like they thought I knew them. Acted like their names were supposed to mean something to me.
But I know no one named Claire or Kendra and they are strangers to me, though I had seen the Kendra woman before. At Westbrook Panera, November 2010. She showed up there while I was eating and started punching me in the face and chanting her name. It was really weird. She acted like she expected me to know who she was then too.
These two women are the oddballs in all of this, because they are not relatives nor are they members of my church.
The FBI thinks they might be friends of relatives or friends of church people.
If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, and her helper, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 The Claire woman is the one the FBI is VERY much wanting to find. She’s the one wanted for murder. The murder trail for my son can not move forward until this Claire woman is identified.
The FBI has been looking for her for 10 years now.
I have no one to talk to offline.
NO ONE.
NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON.
So I write.
I am alone all day and all night. Unloved and unwanted.
No one will spend time with me.
No one will let me go places with them.
No one will go places with me.
That is why I write.
I write, to stay alive. Because I did not write, I would have no reason to live.
Writing prevents me from killing myself.
And if you call THAT being successful, well, you got a warped view of success.
Writing should be fun.
Fun is word for people who are not alone though.
I have to write.
It keeps me alive.
I am unloved and unwanted. I am crippled, therefore I am useless.
I have no one offline to talk to.
I have no one offline to spend time with.
I am endlessly alone.
Too blind for anyone to see me as useful.
Too mute for anyone to see me as worthy of a conversation.
I have no one to talk to offline.
And since the murder of my son, the same day I became crippled, it has been nothing but endless harassment from locals. Especially relatives. Harassments to the point I can not go to the end of my driveway to get my mail because I get shot at with paintball guns every time I do.
Harassment that included the poisoning killing of my dog Mickey May 2023.
Harassment that has included my own father shoving potatoes in the tail pipe of my Volvo November 2021 and March 2022.
You’ve all seen for yourselves the harassment my mother, her brothers, her sisters, her nieces, and her nephews do on FaceBook and Twitter.
Harassment to the point that they drove a backhoe over my house:
My son was murdered and no one cares.
My spine was severed and I am crippled for the rest of my life. And no one cares.
NO ONE.
NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON.
So I write.
I am alone all day and all night. Unloved and unwanted.
No one will spend time with me.
No one will let me go places with them.
No one will go places with me.
That is why I write.
I write, to stay alive. Because I did not write, I would have no reason to live.
Writing prevents me from killing myself.
And if you call THAT being successful, well, you got a warped view of success.
Writing should be fun.
But right now, writing it the fast breaking thread that holds me on to life.
It’s easy to write fun characters.
It’s easy to write fun places.
It’s easy to write goofy stories about a double dicked purple Unicorn who becomes a Lich, falls in love with a snobby Elf, and then the two of them join forces with a Demon and the three of them prance around the planet getting into bar fights. It’s silly, goofy, and just plain fun. And then because I have no one to talk to about any of the abuse, I take the fun stories and send them done dark paths, letting Quaraun unleash full vengeances on his harassers.
I write about fun characters having fun, and I can think of nothing more fun, then rape victims hunting down rapists, torturing said rapists to death, then cooking and eating said rapists.
I hate rape.
I hate rapists.
Even more fun than writing about rape victims getting revenge on rapists, is writing those same rape victims hunting down and chopping up the bullies who bully and harass rape victims.
I hate the bullies who harass and shame rape victims, even more then I hate rapists.
I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
And to deal with what he did I started writing the genre Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape-Revenge Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi featuring an Autistic main character, specifically so that I could write after the rape revenge scenes of the rape victim going serial killer on the rapists ass.
Quaraun gets raped by random one shot characters in dozens of stories. He later after being raped, hunts the rapist down, chops them up, and gives them to his Master Chef Unicorn, the Unicorn cooks the rapist and Quaraun and BoomFuzzy eat the rapist. BoomFuzzy grinds up the rapists bones to make flour which he uses to bake gingerbread cakes out of, which he sells out of his food truck.
I wrote 138 novels, 423 novellas, and 2k+ short stories that is that one plot over and over again. I don’t write anything else. I can’t. Because I have no one to talk to about the things which have happened to me and the people who did those things go out of their way to make sure I never have anyone to talk to. They hate me that much.
They want me dead. They say so often, every chance I can get.
I try to find a reason to stay alive.
I am unloved and unwanted and never let me forget it.
I have no one to talk to. So I write in the hopes that some day I will have some one other then fiction characters to communicate with.
I am getting, right now, March 8, 2024, a whole shit ton load of freak out messages on my social media.
As you know, I am the of 138 novels, 423 novellas, ans 2k+ short stories in the Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape-Revenge Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi featuring an Autistic main character genre. Meaning there are rape scenes in many of my books.
I write that to deal with the fact that I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
And about 3 hours ago I published this:
Okay, let’s just write a direct answer to the person messaging me, seeing how they said they responding to the above Medium article, even though they responded to it on my FaceBook:
Are you aware that you SELF-INCRIMINATE yourself and ADMIT YOUR OWN GUILT — when I say a person did a thing, but I NEVER SAID who did the thing OR that they did it to me…
And YOU responding to that by posting all over social media that I am talking about YOU doing it to ME… I never said any names of either the RAPIST or who the RAPE VICTIM was…. in fact… what I wrote was a short story about an Elf getting raped… sooooo.
You REALLY let your own guilt fly off the handle with that one. Got any other crimes you want to admit to having done while you’re at it?
… uhm…
You ARE aware that the world does not revolve around YOU and I do not spend my days thinking about YOU 24/7 like you are apparently doing about me.
You know, if you can not stop seeing yourself in every Fantasy and Sci-Fi novella I write, you might want to look into a psychiatrist, okay?
Okay, that out of the way.
Let’s talk about what just happened.
I am getting messages via FaceBook, from someone I know offline, who is having a meltdown over claiming that I said on Medium that they were a rapist (I did not say that) and that they raped me (I did not say that either) and then they and well over a dozen others on FaceBook, proceeded to flip out all over their own FaceBook walls.
The thing is, they are THEMSELVES on THEIR OWN FaceBook page, posting all the things they supposedly did. With great accuracy, I might add, because, they DID in fact do the things they are listing off, but, I never said they did.
I was NOT talking about THEM or myself, when I mentioned the rape scenes in my books. Rape scenes of a UNICORN raping an ELF.
Let that sink in a minute.
Unicorns are not real.
Elves are not real either.
YOUR name is NOT BoomFuzzy.
MY name is NOT Quaraun.
And if you want to see YOUR OWN ACTIONS in what I write, that’s just YOU and your own paranoia. I was not writing about you. Nor was I writing about me.
I am legally blind. I have been since birth.
That is why it is so easy for the local Mormon hoodlums to sneak up on me and attack. I can not see them coming.
I have Autism. Non-verbal low functioning Autism. It is why I can not run away or call out for help when they attack.
For those of you online reading this, who do not know me offline. I am like this:
This is how I talk.
I am retarded.
I have Autism, I act like THIS:
THIS is how I talk and act:
I’ll point out one thing: There are NO NAMES on this page or ANY OTHER page on my Medium account.
I never said WHO the priest, the bishop, or the women were.
So all those people who are hissy fitting on Facebook saying that I am accusing THEM… I did not.
There are no names here.
And you can check EVERYWHERE.
No names.
Ever.
Not here on Medium, not on my website, not on FaceBook.
I DID NOT SAY WHO the rapist is.
I DID NOT SAY WHO the bishop is.
I DID NOT SAY WHO the women are.
Not here on Medium, not on my website, not on FaceBook. Not anywhere.
ONLY the GUILTY would think I had accused them.
An innocent person would think: “Geeh, I wonder who did it?”
Only the person who COMMITED THE CRIME would think: “She’s telling on me!”
Think about THAT.
A person who is GUILTY, is always going to be on edge waiting to be found out, so they are ALWAYS going to think they are being accused, even when no accusation was made.
This is a case of people seeing things, I did not write. AGAIN.
They EXPECTED to see a name listed, and so they IMAGINED that they saw THEIR NAME listed, when in fact, NO NAMES were listed, and tell me this: how in the hell am I supposed to list the name of some weird ass freak of a stranger I never heard of before?
These freaks who CLAIM to be relatives, are not names I ever heard before.
How am I supposed to list off the names of people I never heard before?
Does that make any sense to you, because it makes no sense to me.
How am I supposed to know the names of total strangers?
But this leads to so many questions: WHY did they EXPECT I would name THEM as my attackers?
ONLY the GUILTY would EXPECT to be accused.
Does that mean these people freaking out on FaceBook tonight ARE my attackers?
How do I even find out?
The GUILTY people EXPECT to be accused, so when they see me talking about what they did, they JUMP TO THE FALSE CONCLUSION that I named then, even though I did not say ANY names at all.
The ONLY people saying YOU did anything to me, is YOU YOURSELF, when you ran to FaceBook and started accusing me of talking about you.
Only the guilty, would recognise these events and think I had said they did them.
You see the thing is: I AM BLIND.
I can not see faces.
I do not have any facial recognition. It’s a form of aphantasia. Look it up.
I do not know what my mother’s face looks like.
I do not know what my father’s face looks like.
I do not know what my bothers’ faces look like.
I do not know what ANY ONE’s face looks like.
I do not have any facial recognition. It’s a form of aphantasia. Look it up.
I can not see faces.
When I look at a face, all I see is a pinkish-grey blurry blob.
I can not make out the shapes or colours of eyes, noses, mouths.
That is why when I describe what someone looks like, I describe their hair and their clothes, but never their face.
I simply do not know what faces look like.
It is very, very, very rare for there to be someone who I can see their face. 99% of people, their face is behind a hovering grey blur that obscures whatever their face might look like.
Several eye doctors have examined my eyes trying to figure out what it is, why this happens, they do not know what causes it. One eye doctor said the rods in my eyes are not shaped correctly, and he said it’s likely that the rods being misshapen, causes a distortion.
I have scars on the surface of my left eye, from being hit in the face with a branch, when I was 4.
It was at the Jameson School Kindergarten, of Old Orchard Beach, Maine, at age 5, that I first learned I did not see the world as others did.
A few days after starting school, recess gym class was to teach us softball on the front lawn of the Jameson School. There were 38 students in the class and two teachers: Mrs Bureau and Mr Pelletier. She was the Kindergarten teacher. He was the Gym teacher. We were asked to stand in a circle. He laid out a parachute on the ground, and told us to stand around it, thus to teach us what it meant to stand in a circle. He next removed the parachute and gave each of us a softball bat, and told us, he would now stand at the center of the circle, and would one at a time call out our names. He stated that after calling out our names, he would throw the ball to us and we were to attempt to hit it.
When he called out my name, I waited and waited and waited, but nothing happened. After a few minutes he screamed and yelled and wanted to why I was not swinging the bat. I answered that he had not thrown the ball. He said he had and would do so again. Again nothing happened.
He screamed and yelled a bunch more, claimed to throw the ball a few more times. I never saw the ball at all.
Of course, I also never saw him, either. He was standing in the center of the circle of 5 year olds, about 15 or 20 feet in front of me. I knew which way to look because I could hear him talking, but I could not see him.
He had moved to about 5 feet in front of me screaming “Can you see the ball now you fucking bitch?”
He came up inches in front of me, still yelling (the school principal would later explain he was drunk). But his yelling was hysterical now, bordering on gibberish., while hitting me in the face with the softball and shrieking: “CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW! CAN YOU SEE IT NOW!” He knocked out all four of my top front teeth. He only stopped hitting me when I swung the bat across his head.
The school nurse shrugged it off saying “Yeah, he does that. But it’s only baby teeth, they’ll grow back.” She explained that they had to pity him because he had lost his truck driving job after he drove his logging truck over his 3 year old son and that he was drinking because he was upset over having killed his son.
While the school principal called parents to arrange for cars to pick up students as the bus driver (the gym teacher also drove the school bus) was drunk again and would not be able to take kids home from school. (He oddly was never reprimanded for his drunk beating of kids which happened weekly, or his drunk driving the school bus, until he lost his job 3 years later, when he flipped the school bus off the road into a cliff and killed ten 5 year olds).
I would not be until I was 8 years old, that my lack of eye sight resulted in another incident. This time a TV. It was the Bill Cosby show. I had not turned the TV on, I do not know who did. I did not know how to turn the TV on as, I could not see the buttons or knobs on the set. In fact I could not see the TV at all. What I saw was a big wooden box, with a round glass grey light glowing from it’s center. That there was a picture on the TV, in the middle of that light, was something I was completely unaware of. I heard voices coming from the wooden box, every time its big light was on. It was no different from a radio, to my mind, except it was a radio with a giant light in the front of it.
Grammy Helen was still alive and I was still in school. But Grammy Helen died shortly after this, a few weeks maybe.
On this day, I learned two things: there were moving pictures on a TV and there existed people with black skin, who did not look like me.
I was sitting on the floor. My grandmother had given me a box of Crayola Crayons and I was sitting on the floor, lining them up end to end in rainbow colour order. I loved crayons because they had colours. Colours are things I rarely see. Most of the world is a foggy haze, in shades of grey. I can see bright colours if they are close enough to my face. I can see pink and orange and yellow and neon electric blue. The rest of the world is fuzzy and grey.
I was sitting on the floor, revelling in the glory of crayons, because crayons had colour and colour was a thing I so rarely encountered. I was sitting near the TV, probably 2 or 3 feet in front of it, I don’t remember, but I was close to the TV, so that it’s bright grey light caused the crayons to have even brighter colours.
My mother and Grammy Helen were fighting about Bill Cosby and black people and yelling about people on TV. I wondered who Bill Cosby was, as I had not been watching the TV at all. I had been using it’s light so I could see the crayons… and most importantly to this topic: wondering what the pictures on the TV must look like.
We had not had the TV long. It was a colour TV my mother had won from WPOR radio show a few weeks prior. Every night everyone sat around it listening to the shows, same as we had done previously to the radio. Only difference between the radio shows and the TV shows was the radio shows we sat in darkness to listen to and the TV shows we sat under the glow of the light on the front of the TV to listen to it.
I had no idea that the light on the TV was NOT a light, but that it was instead a moving picture. Video shows.
The next morning when Grammy Helen was watching Days of Our Lives and Price Is Right, I put my face up on the big glass lightbulb that was the front of the TV, and I could see that, there was indeed, people moving around inside the light.
And that’s is when it hit me.
Grammy Helen and my mother sat on the couch to watch TV. The big pink couch with the dark pink polka dots. The couch was one of the few pieces of furniture I could see, because it was pink. But it was also 10 or 15 feet away from the TV. They sat way back there and they could SEE the people on the screen. Here I was literally pressing my nose on the glass, and I could ALMOST make out that the moving shapes looked likely possibly people.
TVs are NOT big funny shaped radios with a lamp built in.
TVs have moving pictures of some sort in them.
That was a major revelation.
That was the moment I realized, I could not see.
Or rather, that was the moment I realized other people COULD see.
I had no reason to think that what I saw was anything different than what anyone else saw, so I never said things like “I can’t see that like you can” because I was totally unaware that I was NOT seeing things.
It is why I am able to move around in public, walk down the sidewalk, without help. I grew up with my vision level as normal, because my eyes were like this since birth, so I just move as is nature to me. But, how similar that is to others, I do not know.
I can see shapes. Big blurry shapes. And I can see colours, but I gather I see colour differently than sighted people do, though I am uncertain.
I can see pink and orange really well, so most everything I own is pink or orange. Clothes, cars, everything. Yellow, neon blue, and neon green, I can see, “good” but not as well as pink and orange.
I struggle with things that are black or grey, because MOST everything IS grey motion blur, and apparently other people do not see that, and so things that are ACTUALLY grey “vanish” from view and are like they are “invisible” for me, making it VERY difficult for me to locate anything that is grey.
If I stop moving, stand very still, and stare deeply focuses for 2 or 3 minutes. I can read things like street signs and car license plates. But only at certain times of the day in specific types of light.
I can not see moving objects at all, thus I can not see a ball or frisbee being thrown.
I have no peripheral vision in my left eye, so I do not see you if you walk up beside me and I often walk into people or walls or trees, if they get too close to my left side because of this.
born legally blind, can see a distance of eight inches in the left eye and four feet in the right eye. Glasses increase the distance to four feet in the left eye and twelve feet in the right eye, which is enough to qualify for a driver’s license in the State of Maine, because I can see a distance of two feet in front of the hood of my car. It is a common misconception that a blind person can see nothing.
It is also a little known fact that more than 40% of blind people own driver’s licenses and drive cars.
A legally blind person can see nothing past 20 feet away. Meaning that 40% of all blind people can stand behind a Volvo back bumper and is able to see you standing at the Volvo’s front bumper.
80% of blind people can see a distance of four feet or more allowing them to walk without a guide dog, without a cane, and without a person aiding them. More than 90% of blind people can see colours.
Only 2% of blind people see at a distance of fewer than four feet, which only .02% of blind people are fully blind seeing nothing at all.
The vast majority of blind people have far more visual capacity then the sighted world wishes to acknowledge. But the fact remains, I can not see faces.
And because I can not see faces, I can not identify my attackers.
I CAN NOT identify ANY of the people who attacked.
I CAN NOT name my attackers, because I am legally blind and did not see their faces.
I DO NOT KNOW who the people who did these things are.
I know the women of the Relief Society gang up on me in church meetings, punch me in the back, grab my cane from my hand and hit me with it, while yelling and screaming “slut! whore!” But I am blind so I do not know who those women are.
It is why I sit in the hall at church.
I am too blind to see them coming, too crippled to run, too mute to call for help, and they use the chairs in the Relief Society class room to corner m so they can punch me and kick me.
I know the attackers are those same women who beat me up in Relief Society, because I recognize their voices when they show up in my yard and when they show up at WalMart. They beat me up with shopping carts at WalMart.
But I CAN NOT name them, because I do not know their names.
It is WHY The FBI has asked anyone who CAN identify these people to please come forward.
If you have any info about the identity of the women doing these things please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
Now go back to the start, and reread what these people did, this time knowing WHY these people are so disgustingly deplorable
I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
And to deal with what he did I started writing the genre Dark Fantasy CBT-BDSM Rape Fantasy Unicorn Porn Yaoi, specifically so that I could write after the rape revenge scenes of the rape victim going serial killer on the rapists ass.
Quaraun gets raped by random one shot characters in dozens of stories. He later after being raped, hunts the rapist down, chops them up, and gives them to his Master Chef Unicorn, the Unicorn cooks the rapist and Quaraun and BoomFuzzy eat the rapist. BoomFuzzy grinds up the rapists bones to make flour which he uses to bake gingerbread cakes out of, which he sells out of his food truck.
I wrote 138 novels, 423 novellas, and 2k+ short stories that is that one plot over and over again. I don’t write anything else.
I write that to deal with the fact that I was raped when I was 12 years old, by a priest who was 37 years old. He raped me in the church. It happened more than once. It happened every Sunday until I was 17.
When I turned 18 he said I was too old for him and he was feeling guilty and needed to turn over a new leaf. Turning over a new leaf, involved him dragging me to the SACO WARD Bishop’s office to call me a prostitute and demand I never be allowed to have a temple recommend (I’m a Mormon and so was he. Keep in mind the emphasis on SACO WARD — because I’ll explain that in a minute.)
The SACO WARD Bishop told his SACO WARD wife I was a prostitute.
His SACO WARD wife told the SACO WARD Relief Society I was a prostitute.
And from the time I was 18 years old, for well over 40 year, and continuing on still to this day, I am bullied and harassed offline and online by 275 women from the Cape Elizabeth Ward, The Portland Ward, The Saco Ward, The Cornish Branch, and The Sanford Wards of The Southern Maine Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. With them calling me such names as slut, whore, sex fiend, and other choice words.
October 16, 2006 this group of women put a grease fryer bomb in my bedroom and blew up my house at 1AM while I was asleep. This house:
That was when I started wearing a wig, because the fire from the bomb, a grease fryer stuffed full of fly tapes and rusty nails, burned off all of my hair.
That was when I started living under the 8x6 tarp, most people know me for:
April 2007, a large group of these women arrived at my farm and beheaded 75 of my pet bantam rooster, and tied their headless bodies from rope nooses in all the trees all over my yard.
May 2010 this same group of church women cut my car in half, loaded it onto a flatbed and stole it:
August 8, 2013 this same group of women hired a backhoe to drive over the house which replaced the house the bomb blew up:
November 14, 2013 that same group of women, armed with golf clubs used said golf clubs to murder my son and sever my spine leaving me crippled.
ALL THIS HAPPENED BECAUSE A RAPIST HIGH PRIEST SOUGHT TO COVER HIS ASS BY LYING ABOUT ME AND CALLING ME A PROSTITUTE!
And there’s been more. A lot more. The most recent was poisoning killing of my dog Mickey in May 2023 which he died from July 10, 2023, in spite of the vets efforts to save him. More than 200 similar such attacks, done by members of the churches this priest attends, because…
When I turned 18 he said I was too old for him and he was feeling guilty and needed to turn over a new leaf. Turning over a new leaf, involved him dragging me to the SACO WARD Bishop’s office to call me a prostitute and demand I never be allowed to have a temple recommend (I’m a Mormon and so was he. Keep in mind the emphasis on SACO WARD — because I’ll explain that in a minute.)
The SACO WARD Bishop told his SACO WARD wife I was a prostitute.
His SACO WARD wife told the SACO WARD Relief Society I was a prostitute.
And from the time I was 18 years old, for well over 40 year, and continuing on still to this day, I am bullied and harassed offline and online by 275 women from the Cape Elizabeth Ward, The Portland Ward, The Saco Ward, The Cornish Branch, and The Sanford Wards of The Southern Maine Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. With them calling me such names as slut, whore, sex fiend, and other choice words.
THAT, is what the women flipping out on FaceBook right now, are talking about. THAT is what those gossiping busy bodie biddie bitches are all oooooooooh the poooooor priest about.
Victim shaming is what the women of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine EXCELL at.
Victim bullying is what the women of Old Orchard Beach and Biddeford, Maine are doing.
They are hiding behind their church and their god to do it.
But here’s a thing to think about: If they TRULY BELIEVE in their god and his teachings:
Their god teaches to not lie, because liars burn in hell. Their god sees the lies they spread about me. Their god knows the truth. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for the lies they spread about me.
Their god teaches to not be a busy body or gossip, because busy bodies and gossips burn in hell. Their god sees the gossip they spread about me. Their god knows the truth. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for being busy bodies spreading gossip about me.
Their god teaches to not harm, because violent people are evil sinners who will burn in hell. Their god sees the violence they have done to me, my family, my cars, my houses, my yard, my pets, they. Their god knows the truth. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for ALL the violent, hateful, evil bullying, harassing acts they have done to me.
Their god teaches to not kill, because there is no repentance for taking a life an all who kill burn in hell. Their god sees that they murdered my son, and poisoned my dog, they tried to kill me first with a bomb and then with golf clubs. Their god knows the truth. Their god sees what they do and hears what they say. And their god is going to cast them into the eternal darkness of hell, for the transgressions they have done again me.
One can not hide from the truth.
You can try.
They can PRETEND to be Christian all they want. But if their god really is god, they aren’t deceiving him. They are evil people, because they do evil things. And their god sees and hears all the evil they do, and that hell they like talking about so much, is where god is going to send them.
And if you read this far… I’ll point out AGAIN one thing: There are NO NAMES on this page or ANY OTHER page on my Medium account.
I never said WHO the priest, the bishop, or the women were.
So all those people who are hissy fitting on Facebook saying that I am accusing THEM… I did not.
There are no names here.
And you can check EVERYWHERE.
No names.
Ever.
Not here on Medium, not on my website, not on FaceBook.
I DID NOT SAY WHO the rapist is.
I DID NOT SAY WHO the bishop is.
I DID NOT SAY WHO the women are.
Not here on Medium, not on my website, not on FaceBook. Not anywhere.
ONLY the GUILTY would think I had accused them.
An innocent person would think: “Geeh, I wonder who did it?”
Only the person who COMMITED THE CRIME would think: “She’s telling on me!”
Think about THAT.
A person who is GUILTY, is always going to be on edge waiting to be found out, so they are ALWAYS going to think they are being accused, even when no accusation was made.
This is a case of people seeing things, I did not write. AGAIN.
The GUILTY people EXPECT to be accused, so when they see me talking about what they did, they JUMP TO THE FALSE CONCLUSION that I named then, even though I did not say ANY names at all.
The ONLY people saying YOU did anything to me, is YOU YOURSELF, when you ran to FaceBook and started accusing me of talking about you.
Only the guilty, would recognise these events and think I had said they did them.
Ask yourself THIS:
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying I was raped?
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying I was beaten up?
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying a bomb blew up my house?
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying my car was cut in half?
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying a backhoe drove over my house?
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying my son was murdered by a woman who bashed out his brain with a golf club?
WHO other then the GUILTY would be ANGRY at me saying I my spine was crushed by that same golf club?
Consider THIS:
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: ”WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience being raped?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience being beaten up?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience with bomb blowing up her house?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience her car was cut in half?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience with a backhoe drove over her house?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience with witnessing her son murdered by a woman who bashed out his brain with a golf club?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “WENDY MUST BE STOPPED…” from talking about her experience of her spine crushed by that same golf club?
Consider also THIS:
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating her experience being raped?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating her experience being beaten up?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating the bomb blowing up her house?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating car being cut in half?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating the backhoe that drove over her house?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating her son’s murder by a woman who bashed out his brain with a golf club?
WHO other then the GUILTY would say: “THE FBI MUST BE STOPPED…” from investigating her spine crushed by that same golf club?
Ask yourself THIS:
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience being raped?
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience being beaten up?
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience surviving a bomb blowing up my house?
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience of my car being cut in half?
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience of a backhoe driving over my house?
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience of my son murdered by a woman who bashed out his brain with a golf club?
WHO other then the GUILTY has a MOTIVE to DEMAND I can not talk about my experience of being fucking crippled for ten years because my spine was crushed by that same golf club?
Think about that.
WHO has a MOTIVE to scream “WENDY’S GOTTA BE STOPPED THE FBI WAS HERE TODAY!”
I’m not sending the FBI anywhere. You’re seriously deluded if you think that’s even possible.
The FBI investigates murders.
It’s what the FBI does.
NEWSFLASH: My son was murdered, and the POLICE called the FBI.
I have no say or control over where the FBI goes who what the FBI does or who the FBI talks to. I’m sorry, but, I do not possess the super powers you think I have.
Also, HOW can I send the FBI to ANYONE?
I CAN NOT IDENTIFY the attackers!
REMEMBER?
You see the thing is: I AM LEGALLY BLIND.
I can not see faces.
I CAN NOT identify ANY of the people who attacked.
I CAN NOT name my attackers, because I am legally blind and did not see their faces.
I DO NOT KNOW who the people who did these things are.
I know the women of the Relief Society gang up on me in church meetings, punch me in the back, grab my cane from my hand and hit me with it, while yelling and screaming “slut! whore!” But I am blind so I do not know who those women are.
It is why I sit in the hall at church.
I am too blind to see them coming, too crippled to run, too mute to call for help, and they use the chairs in the Relief Society class room to corner m so they can punch me and kick me.
I know the attackers are those same women who beat me up in Relief Society, because I recognize their voices when they show up in my yard and when they show up at WalMart. They beat me up with shopping carts at WalMart.
But I CAN NOT name them, because I do not know their names.
It is WHY The FBI has asked anyone who CAN identify these people to please come forward.
If you have any info about the identity of the women doing these things please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322
Because there is such a HUGE problem of people making fake “eelkat” accounts impersonating me, here are the links to my ACTUAL accounts:
eelkat.com | Amazon AC1 | FB Profile | FB Page | FB Short Story Writers Group | Google Business | Google Developers | Gravatar | GumRoad | Instagram | Itch.io | LinkedIn | LiveJournal | Medium | Myspace | NexusMods | PayPal | Pinterest | Quora | Reddit 1 | Reddit 2 | Spoonflower | Steam | TikTok | Tumblr | Twitch | Twitter | YouTube | Zazzle |
If you find an account online claiming to be me, that is NOT one of these profiles linked above, there is a 99.99% chance it is a FAKE account impersonating me and only a .001% chance it’s actually me and I just forgot to link it here.
