After I moved into this nice apartment, I felt relief and threw myself upon the task to make a new start in life.
This apartment was so nice! It had an open living room and kitchen concept, but it was not really open, there was a partial wall between it. When you came in the door, you looked at the mirror and the coat rack. The bright light came from the window on the right hand side where the open kitchen was. The kitchen
had a black and white chessboard floor with large tiles. It looked so retro! white metal cabinets, you could walk through to the window with view of the adjacent yard and 2 storey building, and behind the window there was a small fire escape landing. The computer table was beside the window, and when you turned the corner into the living room I had my bookshelves there, and the dining table, and a couch on the kitchen side wall, and the TV on the far wall. There was another window by the dining table, and one on the far wall. Hardwood floors.
Then, from the entrance door to the left, you passed the bedroom on the right on the way to the washroom with bathtub.
I put my 2 Persian carpets down, and it looked fabulous. Bright, on the 3rd floor. Large, roomy, with a separate bedroom, so you could keep the living room tidy for visitors.
All my contaminated clothing that I had not thrown away yet, I put into the storage unit in the basement. I had the hope that the poison would expire.
I also had hope that everything was going to be alright. But it should work out differently.
The telephone got bugged before I moved in. Upon that I changed the lock to an expensive one for $ 300.-- that was said to be unpickable.
I started to get accustomed to the new surroundings, bought more things at Metrotown Mall and made a nice home.
After a couple of days I came home and my new dress, hanging in the hallway, had been sprayed with pesticide. I could not find any way of entrance and deducted, that the perps had sprayed it from underneath the apartment door. I bought a piece of moulding, cut it to size, drilled the bottom of the door with my old fashioned hand drill, screwed it on and closed the gap.
Every time I left the house, I secured the old fashioned hook windows by tying them up with string from the inside. This worked fine for 2 weeks and I started to relax a little bit. It made me nervous to see that somebody had replaced the old smoke detectors with new ones and that there was one right in front of my door, and in front of the the back door to the fire escapes on every floor, and also in front of the main entrance door. and in the laundry room, but I did not think too much about it.
Then I saw, out of my bedroom window, John Ceausescu's car parked outside my place on the street.
Then I saw him walking towards his car, holding both hands in front of him. that was the day when I discovered a big square hole in the ceiling of the laundry room.
The next thing that happened was that a Romanian couple moved in to the lower suite of the building on the opposite side of the street. Their living room windows were overlooking my entrance. One time I went onto the lawn in front of their suite and saw through the open balcony door the older woman sitting in a chair and staring at the TV intently.
After that the horror nightmare continued again: My car was constantly being poisoned. Several times I saw a guy with a bucket run away in a crouched manner in the early morning or at dusk. When I looked at my car, it was soaking wet inside, and stank of pesticide. Sometimes when I sat in the driver's seat, my clothes were wet from back of knee to neck. It was literally breathtaking. I got very dizzy and was constantly driving with the windows open. Later I covered everything in plastic, but then they sprayed the plastic, but it could be replaced. All the time I was using plastic bags as one-time-gloves to touch the poisoned steering wheel with.
The tips of my fingers started to peel from the constant poisoning.
One day I went to my daughter's place and when I returned I saw, that the whole apartment had been sprayed, the walls had been painted again with pesticide mix and the whole place stank unbelievably and I could not breathe. Pesticide in absolutely everything again, clothes, bedding, kitchen cutting board, dishes, condiments, sugar, salt, you name it, the place was contaminated to the gills.
I told the son of the owner, as he was a police man. He asked: "Is anything stolen? no? How did he get in?"
I did not know. He came into my apartment, sniffed a bit, told me there was a bit of mould in the one corner at the window, and I should wash the floor and that was that. Ok.....what else is new. I had cleaned away the mould right away when I moved in. I had washed down the cabinets and window frames and window sills. It was smelling fine after that..
But how did he get in? My windows were still tied. The expensive lock not broken. I examined the windows thoroughly, and, voila.... on the kitchen window where the fire escape landing is, there was fresh grout on the window to keep it in the frame. The Killer, John Ceausescu most likely, had taken the old broken grout out of the metal windowframe, then re-grouted it after he left. Unfortunately I destroyed the thumbprint in the grout while testing it. Needless to say that he found the second key still in it's box, with invoice, paperwork, security number, passwords and all, and copied it.
This was now the end of my happy time there and soon I was so stressed out that I had the accident. The recovery took a long time because my injuries got injected at night with pesticide but I had no knowledge of that. The perps walked in and out of my apartment freely when I was out or sleeping, and my life quality was zero.
After 3 months I gave notice. The perps fiddled with the heating thermostat in the heater room every day so my place was ice cold in winter. Every time I did laundry downstairs, it was heavily contaminated.
I had no idea that there were cameras in the new smoke detectors and the woman across was doing nothing else but watching me all day and night.
When I complained to the owner of the building, they shrugged me off. Even the one time, when I complained to his police man son, and the woman opposite took a green plastic bowl under her arm and went outside, and stood close to us to listen in, he shrugged me off and told me to get psychological treatment.
After I started vomiting up everything I cooked at home, I noticed one day, that the salt, which I always put into the palm of my hand to measure it, contained some white powder, that still stuck to my hand after I let the salt fall into the soup. I thought that strange, although I had noticed this for some time, and begun to think it is normal. But that time it seemed more powder and I called my daughter at home and asked her to make a test if her salt sticks too. She said no. I knew there was DDT or something different in the salt. I tried to get it analyzed, but police put me down and labs wanted a letter from the police and the name of the poison. How could I know the name of the poison?? If I knew it, I would not need a laboratory. I could see that if I did not get out, I would most likely die soon in this apartment. Still weakened from the accident, I asked my daughter if I could stay with her for some time and she said yes.
She came over and we sorted out the contaminated clothes and threw away everything but what fit into two suitcases. That was hard for me to do, as there were things that had cost a lot of money and also things I still had from Germany. Then we put all my other things and the furniture into storage. As my car was totalled, I was dependent on public transport.
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