Paranormal everyday life. Season 1. Episode 8. Part 3. This is not mysticism and not a lie. This is a paranormal reality. How we were kicked out of our home and out of the country. Not by people. But by who?

My son was supposed to fill out a questionnaire three weeks before the trip to the agenda, but as soon as he opened it, my head began to be pressed insanely, and he fell into a kind of stupor and could not write a single line.

And notes began to come from the military that if the son did not fill out the questionnaire on time, he would have problems. Apparently, these notes were also FAKE, but we did not even assume that this was POSSIBLE at the time.

“Hi, Yaron! I wanted to tell you, just don’t tell your mother so that she doesn’t worry, but the other day I had a guy’s dad at freediving who went to Beersheba for the first summons and was taken straight from there to work at the nuclear reactor in Dimona.” – Ariel’s voice was telling in the phone.

Then another call from Ariel and a new story about another guy… who was also taken from the first summons… and military informed his parents only a few days later.

Another call and a story about guys who had their passports torn or canceled on the first summons…

And this is my only son and a very beloved one… and my fear for him has reached a critical point.

I left work on the afternoon of July 12 and worried about every creak of the gate in the yard, imagining that it could be the military.

“I don’t know what to do. I am insanely afraid that we will not survive this summons. And if they take you away? I’ll just die of grief. And it’s also scary to leave. Where to? Now everything is developing well here, we have received the coveted certificate of remote education, thanks to the excellent doctor, and the social worker of the school Yuval said that he has taken up the solution of this issue and a teacher will start coming to you one of these days. This now seems to be the only case in the whole of Eilat, because in Israel there is a law according to which all students are required to attend school.

We have finally rented a great apartment in the best area of the city with a pleasant owner, where we alone use a large courtyard.

And finally, Ariel and Adam, they are such nice people, will soon rent a villa for work and offer cooperation with them. We have a visit to our doctor before the summons, he is determined to help us with a certificate for release from the army.

Remember, we recently saw him in the store, he recognized us, greeted us and smiled, he is clearly disposed to us. In general, almost everyone here treats us well. And finally, Yaron, I love this place very much, and I feel an indissoluble connection with it.

But … and if they take you into the army from the first summons, as Ariel told, and you will feel bad, and I will not stand it? And this “but” scares me so much that it outweighs all the other advantages at once, because if there is no Life, then nothing is needed. I do not know what to do? What are we going to do, Yaron? And also, I don’t understand, Yaron, is it turn so out that all our friends want to leave due to the changed situation in the country?”

In general, we decided to buy tickets and leave. Where to? I don’t know where could buy tickets, because, as I said, my card was blocked for online purchases. I had to ask a acquaitance, she showed great perseverance and she managed to pay for our tickets for 5.30 am on July 16 to Istanbul from her card somewhere on the 20th attempt, on the evening of July 14. Then we ran to the Eilat bus station to buy bus tickets to Tel Aviv the next day.

I hurriedly collected what I could from things, collecting only one suitcase, so that the inspector at the airport would not have a suspicion that we were leaving for a long time. All the other things were left in the apartment and in the villa at the club. On July 15, we left by day bus and were in Tel Aviv in the evening. The bus did not go to Ben Gurion, we drove on some route to the turn where the airport lights were visible, then we went on foot with our things, got lost , but by midnight, sweaty, sweating and tired, we draged ourselves the airport.

It was unusually deserted near the entrance to the airport, we showed the security guard our tickets and he let us pass, although we probably looked a little crazy.

“Yaron, let’s go have a cappuccino, against our usual custom, calm down a little and go slowly to check in for our flight.”

“Yes, of course!”

“How strange, Yaron, will we really never come back here? It breaks my heart!

Yaron, but will the inspector let us through? And suddenly, on the contrary, he will call the military? I’m so nervous that my legs are even shaking.”

“Me too.”

“Let’s go!”

The first check at the airport is a security check.

My son and I approached a woman who looked at us suspiciously, began to ask us a lot of questions about why we did not buy tickets ourselves, why and for how long we were going to Turkey, and then called the male boss.

He took our darkons (foreign passports) and, stepping aside, stared at them intently for several minutes, which seemed endless to us. I think that at this moment, fear and confusion were simply written on our faces.

“Let them pass!” – he said to the woman.

“But, why? The guy is 18, they are…”

“I told you to let them through, I’m the boss here!”

We exhaled.

“The test is passed” – my son whispered to me.

“Wait, we’ll say that when we land in Turkey.”

This happened on the morning of July 16 and a new counttime began for us.

Entangled in a web of fear and fake reality, we still did not fully understand WHAT HAD HAPPENED and what we would have to go through, that Life HAD CHANGED ABRUPTLY FOREVER. We did not understand THEN THAT SUCH A THING WAS POSSIBLE AT ALL, namely, that this whole SITUATION was FAKE, RIGGED, BUT NOT RIGGED BY PEOPLE.

Today, as I write these lines, it has been more than a year since we are wandering around the world and how much pain, anguish and despair we have experienced!!!

We have tried many times to understand and analyze how this could have happened and what motives our energy-informational worlds had to expel us from the country. So far, we have not been able to contact any person from Eilat . If we call them via Whatsapp or messenger, we are answered, moreover, soon after the call…, but only fakes ― fake of Adam, fake of Ariel, fake of Avner, fake of Aviv…

Now we are in Adjara, in Batumi and there is a storm with a thunderstorm on the street. I stand in the doorway and watch as an incredibly heavy downpour floods the yard with streams of water and they, along with thunderclaps, seem to clear my thoughts, wash away my pain and tears from my eyes. Goodbye, my dear Eilat, Ramon Crater, the Israeli desert, I love and remember you!

But I understand that we have to go further and I really hope that very soon we will be able to leave for our native places , which I have been waiting for many years to meet. Hello, Sonora! Hello, Arizona! We should see you soon!!!

And our story continues! Many new , even more interesting, unusual and exciting adventures in Istanbul – a huge and beautiful city on two seas and two parts of the world, are waiting for your attention, dear reader!

Paranormal episodes from everyday life. Season 2. Episode 2. Part 2. Scary tales told at night. “Prophecy” begins to come true, or the terrible tale begins …

We were already on Istiklal street.

When all of a sudden my son says to me in a frightened way:

“Some strange guy has been walking behind us all the way for two hours and constantly takes pictures of us, don’t look at him and pretend that you haven’t noticed anything.”

At first it seemed to me absolute nonsense.

But really at a distance of about 7-9 feet in front of us was a young guy in a blue T-shirt and denim breeches, and he looked rather inadequate and behaved strangely.

He had a phone in his hands and constantly, entering the tram tracks of the nostalgic tram, he stopped and took pictures of us.

We stopped, and he stopped too.

He stood in front of us and followed with his eyes our every move.

We went further, he did the same.

We walked a few yards and stopped, and he also stopped and stood a couple of yards away from us, and without taking his eyes off us, unceremoniously and intrusively continued to take pictures of us. It all looked really strange, because the reason for his so active interest in us was incomprehensible.

In the meantime, my son looked even more frightened, he persistently said that the guy’s behavior is incomprehensible and inspires fear, that human trafficking is widespread in many countries and gradually fears began to seize me too.

It was a strange sensation – on the one hand, I felt inner peace, and on the other hand, some strange anxiety, as if outside, continued to grow.

We reached one of the consulates, there are several of them on Istiklal and pressed the bell button. We were answered and advised to contact a policeman, of whom there are always a lot of them on the street.

After this maneuver, the guy left us, and we safely reached the house, where we decided to get distract ourselves and have a snack.

But just as we were about to sit down at the table, a call rang from Emre’s number (a tall, pumped up, pleasant and very responsible and benevolent young man who, together with his brother Erol, rented to us a previous apartment nearby).

Emre’s voice was trembling with emotion and horror. He said that Erol was apparently kidnapped on Istiklal Street an hour ago, he does not know the details.

My son and I looked at each other:
“Could meeting that guy really portend danger?” – we thought.

While we were trying to understand whether this was so, Emre called again and said that he had seen the video recordings on Istiklal Street and there he saw that a guy in denim breeches and a blue T-shirt was walking behind us and talking on the phone, in this conversation he described my son and expressed doubts whether it would be suitable for the customer.

I must add that my son, although tall, is rather thin.

Emre described the guy in detail and the description matched exactly, right down to the red stitching on the guy’s sneakers.

Emre said he saw on the cameras that the guy had already reached out his hand with a syringe to son’s arm, but then he saw Erol (Emre’s brother), apparently a regular at the gym, who was in excellent, much more suitable physical form for the customer, and injecting with a syringe, the guy pushed him into the open door of the driven up, apparently by acall of the guy, car.
We were shocked. Highly.

Brother, brother, hello! Open up please, I have to tell you what happened to me now! “- we heard the trembling voice of Khalil outside the door, very friendly and attentive, but loving to smoke weed, the owner of the apartment.

The son opened the door and saw Khalil, who really didn’t look well at all. His face was pale, his T-shirt was torn at the back, and he himself seemed to be shaking with horror.

“Brother, I went to that big Carefour store, you know, down that street. There, a huge seven-foot security guard, he came up to me, grabbed a T-shirt and said that I had to go to the interior of the store. At the same time, he winked at the muscular man who was cutting the meat with a huge knife and followed us.

“It’s your time to serve as food. Do you think we have meat on the shelves is made from ram? “- asked the guard.

At first I was numb with horror, and then I dashed with all my might, and I managed to escape. I ran to the exit, and the security guard and musclehead slipped on the wet floor with and I managed to get away from them. Brother, be careful, please!”

Now our thoughts were occupied only by these incidents and to distract ourselves, we called our American friend James, who was traveling with his dog and talked with him for an hour and a half. This somewhat distracted us from heavy thoughts about what had happened.

And we were about to rest after a tiring day, but then again we heard the call.

This time called the owner of the apartment Khalil. His voice was interrupting by fear:

“Hi Brother! Be very careful, please, be quiet and don’t go to the window. The area has been taken over by a gang that is engaged in human trafficking,” he said.

Season 2. Episode 2. Istanbul. Scary tales told at night … Part 1. “Prophecy” on the alarm clock.

After a few moves, we settled in the very heart of Istanbul next to Taksim Square, a two-minute walk from Istiklal Street.

We loved this place and the welcoming friendly attention of the owner of the apartment, Khalil, and the sincere disposition of the housekeeper Zuleikha.

On Friday afternoon, when my son and I were about to go for a walk, as usual in anticipation of the arrival of our friends, an alarm clock suddenly rang on the phone, which none of us had set.

“You need to leave, there’s less than a week … you need to go to North America” ​​- the creeping line on the top of the alarm clock said “prophetically”. By the way, how it is possible to write anything there is still not clear to me.

We did not know how to react to this warning, who wrote it, is it true or false.

We thought …

Why do we have to leave within a week, what can happen?

Unclear. There was no explanation.

“As for North America, it’s not easy, we don’t have a visa to the US. Maybe it makes sense for us to go to Antalya?”, I asked my son.

“In my opinion, this is not a stupid thought” – he responded and dialed the number of Turkish airlines.

“Good afternoon, please tell me the flights to Antalya in the coming days and the price of tickets.” – he asked.

“Oh, you called on time, you know that we now have special discounts on the flight to Tucson, I myself recently flew round trip for $ 500. And I’m just delighted with this trip!” – we heard the voice of the “operator” from the phone.

“We need a flight to Antalya, not Tucson. We do not have an American visa.”

“Oh, do you need a transatlantic flight?” – the operator asked …

Amazing! It was as if he didn’t hear us or didn’t want to understand, imposing on us the thought expressed in the creeping line of the alarm clock.

What does that mean? Was it a real Turkish Airlines operator? Or not?

We looked at each other with surprise and at that moment heard another alarm clock ringing that we also have not set.

I grabbed my phone and read a new note on the creeping line:

“You can stay in Istanbul longer, but do not walk in crowded places. You are not in Turkey, you are on your way to North America. You do not need to go to Antalya.”

Why? I don’t know, we didn’t understand. But we didn’t go.

Exactly one week has passed since that message and the clearly marked at the first ring of the alarm clock day and hour has come …

We walked our favorite route across Istiklal Street to the beautiful white bridge over the Golden Horn to admire the beautiful view while awaiting the “arrival” of our friends.

We stood on the bridge and headed back, as usual discussing our business, or rather not even our business, but those extraordinary events that we thought were happening to our friends and acquaintances.

And we were already on Istiklal Street, when all of a sudden my son says to me in a frightened way:

“Some strange guy has been walking behind us all the way for two hours and constantly takes pictures of us, don’t look at him and pretend that you haven’t noticed anything.”