Free The Spiral Effect by James Gilmartin Page A

Don’t need reminding every five
seconds. Like a bothersome alarm with my thoughts as the
snooze.
    But it’s the agenda. All that matters.
    I know.
    Then get on it.
    I will.
    Shh.
     
    Need to be more careful. Cautious. Blacking
out is too big a risk, especially with other memories and thoughts
locked away for storage. None have ever escaped, thank the Lord;
but each blackout only increases the odds.
    The way my mind goes into dual mode every
time I wake from a blackout is more bothersome. Becoming like a
sophisticated schizophrenic who converses and argues with himself.
I need to be more careful about pushing myself too hard. But it was
worth it. I succeeded and stopped the remaining mob. For the time
being, those 1012 people calmly and patiently work together in the
hopes of finding a cure. I hope I haven’t simply delayed the
inevitable.
    The state of the world for three months—I
think it’s been three months—progressively getting worse each day.
But it wasn’t like this at the beginning, and that’s what has me so
confused, on a constant search for the right mind. Years of
telepathic and telekinetic abilities popping up all around the
world, and now the gift is a curse, a plight on human existence.
But why? And why is it killing everyone in the world but me?
    God, have you found it fit to spare me, or
am I missing something?
    Find the Cause.
    Find the Source.
    Find the beginning.
    The inspiration to my current goal. My
reason for breaking my own privacy laws and entering the mind of
every person I come across.
    Found enough thoughts for the day. Time to
organize.
    Catalogue and file.
    So much easier since I created this office
in my mind. Plush beige carpet, desk, stereo, computer desk, and
chair. The illusion definitely eases the strain and anxiety of
organizing so many memories.
    Sit at the desk, play every Sigur Ros album
on a loop, draw up the holographic computer screen, and get to
work.
    1014 to enter and date, all in the hopes
that maybe some of them will link up and share a coherent clue to
the cause of all this mess. A combined total of 1, 386, 605
memories. That many minds and I’m not any closer. No one seems to
remember how this started—who was patient zero.
    Each person remembers when they first
exhibited signs, first read a thought, moved an object with a
focused flicker of their mind, controlled another person, jumped
bodies, and sadly, when their bodies started falling apart.
    But not who had it first.
    It still drives me crazy. How can none of
them remember the first person to show signs, or at least the first
one publicly broadcasted to the world? The internet,
television—showed everything the news could offer before this
happened. Where’s the beginning?
    The one commonality they all seem to share
is the word spiral. It isn’t much. Doesn’t seem to be anything. But
I keep searching. Catalogue, file, search.
    Janine Spangler— Sacramento —sub file: Female —sub file: Ages 22-26 —sub file: Carrier —sub file: Memory Type —sub file: Movie .
    Glad to see that Janine’s thoughts and
memories took on the form of moving pictures, with dates too. Makes
it much easier to chronicle and organize. The only difficulty will
be sorting through imaginary and real. Those with the movie memory
type always seem to have a vivid imagination. Creative people, but
with difficulty putting thought and ideas in clear and concise
wording.
    Janine, like everyone else I’ve come across,
holds over a billion memories. Wonder if she came to the
realization that her brain had stored so much information? That
every moment, thought, song, test, television show, conversation,
movie, and whatever else she experienced, as long as it passed the
short term test, never left. She knew she was telepathic. She read
minds—changed others thoughts—even forced…hmm.
    She remembers like a director watching her
performers.
    Janine, wearing an airy, yellow and white
summer dress, sits on the chair, sobbing.
    Mike,