The ceiling and is white and clean, and the light is making my head hurt. "Where am I?" The walls are white too, and my wrists are cuffed to the bed. "Who is there?" Wait. "Why am I tied down? What's going on?" "Why don't you relax, Mr. Elliot. Try not to move." I turn my face to find a man in medical mask, watching me through black, unexpressive eyes. "What is this?" A woman sides him, and she's also in a mask. "Is this the one?" "Yeah." They exchange meaningful looks and turn around, heading for the door. "Wait! Wait! What is going on?" I hear the door clicking, and then I'm alone with the humming sound of the air conditioner again. Elliot? Is my name Elliot? Panic. Shortness of breath. I feel nausea. I feel a buzz in my pocket and I'm barely able to reach the phone, with my hands cuffed. I got of texts. The target is on crossing the park inside a black sedan Is one. The sedan parked., is another. Target is on the move, Dennis, is a third one. The new one, the one that buzzed just now, I click it. You need to get out of this hospital. Now I blink repeatedly. I feel dizziness. I feel confusion. Where was I last night? My phone buzzes again. There is a key under your bed. A police officer is going to walk inside the room in fourteen seconds. You need to get out. He's going to arrest you. I frown. I look from the phone to the door. I hear muffled conversations outside. The phone buzzes again. Dennis. Now! Without thinking, I manage to reach out under the bed with my free hand and I search blindly. This is insane. My fingers brush past something metallic. I hear noise, and the knob on the door is twisting. The conversation outside grows louder. Clumsily, I stick the key on the cuff and manage to open it. The phone buzzes. Go out the window. The door is opening, and I jump out the bed and climb through the wooden framed opening by the small refrigerator. I reach the ledge and I'm able to crouch out just under the window as soon as I hear, "—shouldn't be able to remember anyth -- where is he? The phone. It buzzes. Your house is bugged. Do not go home. I step by step carefully away from the window. This is the fourth floor, from what I can count. Quite the drop is what I think, as I pass by another window just like mine, making way to the fire escape. There is a Coffee Bean next to your ex-girlfriend Lisa's house, on Santa Monica Boulevard. Go there. I frown. I reach the fire stairs. I feel weakness on my knees. I feel drowsy. I feel tension. Who is this? I manage to type. Do you remember your name? I frown. No, I type. Do you remember what you did last night? What did I do last night, is what I type just as I reach the last level and I jump my way to the street. I hear sirens. No. Buy today's paper. I frown again, and I start making way across the street, far from the hospital with each step. There is a Seven Eleven here, and I walk in. To my left is the magazine stand, and my face is on the front page of the L.A. Times. It reads, 23 Year Old Dennis Elliot Arrested on Senator Christopher Adams' Assassination Charges. I feel sweat down my eyes. I feel accelerated heartbeats. Who am I? I type. Who are you? I type. What is this? You are the latest in a long list of unwilling subjects of a project known as MK Ultra, is the answer. What? Seriously, Dennis. Get out of this Seven Eleven, my phone reads. Coffee Bean. Now.