From 11pm till around 4:30am in the morning a severe force pulled me backwards forcing me to land upside down backwards on top of my head! Not the back of my head but physically the top like gravity had been turned upside down. Each time i sat upright almost immediately i was forced backwards back onto my head. There was no way i could just lay back & stop trying to sit upright each time my head hit the wood floor every 5-10 seconds because my neck was bent so badly as the top of my head to hit the wood floor. My shoulder blades were lifted up off the floor in order for the top part of my head to hit each time. Its a wonder my neck was not severely damaged or in fact broken each time i went backwards upside down on my head. i lost count how many times my head hit the wood floor it occurred that relentlessly. I wish i had a camera to record the incident to show how brutal it was & for doctors to explain. Basically Karl Josef Silberbauer (Please click here for more information) was in my head & jealous as hell of me & my life & thought he could pull my soul from my head & take over me.
IT WAS SCAREY, SHOCKING, HORRIFIC AND IT HURT! IT WAS SO SEVERE AND NASTY IT WAS DEMONIC!
EMERGENCY SERVICES WAS DESPERATELY NEEDED!
I WISH I HAD A CAMERA RECORDING THIS EVENT TO PROVE WHAT HAPPENED!
I WAS HOME ALONE & IT LASTED FOR 4+ HOURS!
My apartment got trashed as i had tried to grab pillows off the lounge chair to place under the top of my head & in the frenzied panic the room got destroyed. Each time i tried to get up off my head i was pulled back upside down and my head banged on the floor repetitively. Luckily my neck and back not broken due to the position banging on the top of my head kept forcing me in as it continued for hours! It was demonic to say the least! I wish i had not been home alone that night.
Was someone (Karl Josef Silberbauer) or Jason Panza (the bloke that lived in apartment above me when I lived on North Croft Ave West Hollywood (Please click here to find out more information)) trying to take my soul from my head and replace it with theirs because they were jealous as hell of me and wanted to be me??? I'm sick and tired of hearing a male voice (afterlife or real world-I don’t know) carrying on like a prema-donna "But the prostitute (me) downstairs owns a Rolex"!!! Get over it C%*#!
I should have called emergency services (911) but instead I ended up calling Marc Wilcox? Why? Please read on.
