The Lighthouse -- Rob Borcic

It's not easy being the target of a government conspiracy. Day-in, day-out, they watch me. Always watching. I can't blame them. They need subjects, and who would volunteer? But why does it have to be me?

It all started some twenty-odd years ago when old Pete, the lighthouse keeper, retired. He said that they were gonna replace him with a robot. I remember laughing - Pete was always a little soft in the head. A robot! The official story was that the lighthouse was going to be automated. No need for a keeper, just a guy to come by once in a while to check up on it. It seemed reasonable - in those days everybody had a little worry that they'd be replaced by a robot or something.

I knew something was wrong when I saw all of the workers and equipment. Who needs all of that stuff to run a lighthouse? Pete could handle it, and he wasn't all that smart. Nobody else realized that something strange was up. But I could tell - the trucks gave it away. They said Coast Guard on them, but they were obviously fake. I knew they were really from the CIA. I wasn't sure at first, but when I saw the antennas, I knew it. You don't need antennas in a lighthouse. And they were funny antennas. Real funny. Not like a TV or radio antenna. I couldn't see the cameras, but I knew they were watching.

It was Pete who clued me in to the real purpose. Mind control. Pure and simple. He hadn't even noticed the antennas and he knew that old lighthouse like the back of his hand. He would've noticed if the thought hadn't been suppressed. And then his wife, Mary, said that I should just forget about it, it was probably nothing. Can you believe that? This is the same Mary that complained to city hall when one of her neighbors put up a TV antenna that was six inches too tall. She was obviously under their control.

After a few weeks it got worse. Their mind control rays were so effective, nobody even wanted to talk about the strange goings-on at the lighthouse. Only I was immune, probably due to my superior intellect and strength of will. But I could feel their rays chipping away at me. The thought would creep into my mind. "Maybe it's nothing. Maybe I'm just imagining it." I stayed awake that whole night. I was sure that they'd have me if I went to sleep. Four pots of coffee. I stayed up all night, all day, and well into the next night. I knew I had to do something.

Under cover of darkness, I acted. I covered my entire body with mud to prevent them from spotting me with their infrared heat detectors. I wrapped bits of tinfoil on my rifle to disguise it from their radar. I was scared, but I couldn't stand to see my friends under CIA control any longer. Four shots. One of them took out the main antenna. Another must've got something important, because I saw sparks fly. I hoped it was the mind control machine. The main light went out and I ran. I got back to the house before the choppers came. I hid in the basement all night. I could tell they were looking for who did it by the way they flew around. They were smart, I'll give them that much - it took a trained eye to see that they were using the emergency beacon as a searchlight.

By morning, the fake Coast Guard trucks were back. Mary came over, knocked on my door and peeked in through the windows. They had her spying on me. I was afraid that I might have to kill her, but she eventually walked over to the trucks. I saw her talking to their leader. I still remember what he looked like - a little guy, bald, glasses. His ears were shaped funny, obviously fake. I don't think he was human.

Later that evening, the trucks left. The light was back on, but the antenna was still down. I didn't feel any strange thoughts coming on, so when Pete came by, I risked going up to meet him. He looked at me real suspicious, but he seemed more like his normal self. He told me that some kids had shot out the main light at the lighthouse and asked me if I'd seen anything. I wasn't sure I could trust him, so I didn't tell him anything.

Soon after that I found that wearing a lead helmet was effective at blocking the rays. I sleep with it too. It's hot and not real comfortable, but it's a small price to pay for freedom.

Pete passed away about two years ago. Mary put the house up for sale and moved away. The house stood empty until just a few weeks ago, when a young guy moved in. He came over to introduce himself. He seemed nice enough, but he told me that he worked for the Coast Guard. He asked me what I knew about the lighthouse. I played like an average mind controlled joe and acted like I didn't know anything.

Since then I've seen him wandering around the lighthouse. Preparing for Phase Two, no doubt. But I'll be ready. I've been buying bags of fertilizer - just one or two at a time to avoid suspicion. They'll never know what hit them.