The Rebirth of the returned.

I Can’t stop this war in me. Funny how this feels like déjà vu. Falling victim to lower vibrations surrounding me. Slowly suffocating in my mind. Cutting off my blood circulation to the brain. This isn’t my face. This body does not belong to me. I suppose if I would have traded those double A batteries I’d have a better cloth. Beggars can’t be choosers here in District 9. You’re probably wondering what a cloth is and district 9. A cloth is a nice way of saying a new body. Yea the higher ups finally figured out how to become immortal; in a sense. Am I soulless or am I collective consciousness? Hell I’m still trying to figure that out. A heart shaped Lockett holds every emotion, memory I’ve ever had from what I can remember. It’s silly, man has repressed its uniqueness into something so small, so fragile. I guess humanity should have seen it coming with all the technology getting smaller. Man I’d trade some shoe strings for an iPhone. It’s year 2084 in old Paris France aka District 9. No cars do not fly, but if they did I wouldn’t be here. Naturally I’ve died 24 times. Every time you reprogram, the number shows on the front of the heart Shaped locket. Maxing out at 30 reprogrammed cloths. Don’t think that you can get away, we’re all being tracked by the Major. The press of a bottom and you’re down. Programming fried with no hope for salvaging. Left over data in each cloth morphed with my locket. When in rebirth I can feel how the previous host died. It only last a second. Still some pretty intense trauma. I can’t remember my birth name nor any family. Thanks to this major dipstick and her General Isiki Mulero. I’ll get back to him and their army of hybrid humans soon enough. My friends call me Phoria; Anything but reality brings me close to familiarity and peace. They say my head is always in the clouds. I don’t know, something up there is calling out to me. Maybe its the split personalities from left over conscious residue. Hell those of us left all suffer from it. We’re all mad here. I’m going to put an end to this suffering. For all of us non-hybrids. My team The Strikers; are an underground unit of consciousness striving to find a solution. Something big is coming. I can feel it in my fingertips to my toes. You may be wondering how the world came to this, some idiot pulled an Atlantis on Earth. Obsessing with technology replicating the sun and moon causing another Big Bang. Most of the world is underwater. Europe still stands. Mount Everest. China, by the way im truly impressed the Great Wall still stands. And the Statue of Liberty. She’s the only symbol of Hope in the Eastern hemisphere. I have the perfect view here at home in the rugged Eiffel Tower. I feel on top of the world here. Nothing pretty but it works. I guess all isn’t lost. It’s a crime to eat meat so most people were forced to perfect their green thumb. Becoming vegan. Only the hybrids would come and take what they want whenever they feel with no remorse. They consider themselves the evolved man. Boy are they in for a rude awakening. I just know it. These visions I’ve had maybe hallucinations or intuition. I know I’m not the only one with these downloads from the stars. There are strength in numbers and ours are growing. The Major knows it. They’ve been panicking lately. Enforcing curfews. Random locket checks. There will be casualties in this war, but everyone is ok with that. Whatever it takes, we will rise.

The alarm sounds. “Proceed to your bunker this is not a drill” (continuous alarms and people screaming) I lay there in my bed listening to the chaos. It must be pretty bad out there. Gathering my bunker bag, a meteor chipped off the top of the Eiffel Tower. I duck and regained my balance. Hell they weren’t lying this time. I run out in a hurry. The strikers have a protocol for this. Looking around me I see people panicking and stumbling. Families separated because of fear. I snap back into reality. “Look up Phori” my thoughts warned me. The sky looks as if it’s falling apart. Fireballs falling from an pinkish orange lake of fire. That’s not the only thing entering the atmosphere without consent. I’m star struck. Is this what I’ve been feeling for the past few weeks? Is this the rude awakening? My body is frozen but my legs are drawn to these invaders. No control over my body. Is the Major sending us to our death? Only my eyes can move at this point. I see The hybrids dropping like flies. Some high pitched frequency only they can hear like a dog whistle. Bodies trembling to an ash. It’s been awhile sense I’ve felt fear and I’m terrified at this point. Other cloths were drawn to this mother ship. The door drops, blowing dust in our faces. I’ve regained control over my body and covered my face. As I uncovered my eyes, standing in front of me stood a 7ft tall slim stick figure as black as the carbon from the night sky. Reaching towards me with long bony fingers. A light at the tip embraced the center of forehead. Right in that moment everything made sense. Blasting my thoughts into the universe and back to earth. This was a mass awakening. The rebirth of the returned.