away or something, and ended up in a Mexican drug rehab as a child. They did some kind of behavior modification with negative feedback, where they tied her up and sprayed her with a hose. The son of the man who owned the rehab did the hosing, and he raped her. She wasn’t telling me this as like a whining story. I think she was saying what I was expected to do with her. Nikki’s mother worked the night shift, at the front desk of a motel where Mandi Jackson sometimes stayed when she came to Miami. And Nikki’s mother slept all day, while Nikki bopped around South Beach meeting old guys. One thing led to another, and I eventually hired Nikki to clean my house. Because I was too busy. Nikki would show up to clean my house hours and hours late, at 9pm, with a big, almost empty bottle of some type of liquor. I worked on my computer, and she cleaned in silence. At midnight my house would be sparkling, and my projects would show great progress. And Nikki would leave drunk and angry, with $50. I didn't realize paying her to clean my house, was supposed to be a pretext for something else. So Nikki would knock on my door at all hours like a raccoon, and I really had no idea what she wanted or what to do with her. She would pour tears, though I can’t remember when or why. She punched me, to try to get me to punch her back and rape her. She wasn’t getting what she wanted, and she disappeared. A year later Nikki came back, and it was a different person. She met a guy in eleventh grade in high school. She lived with him for a year in Texas, with his father and his uncle in like a trailer. Somehow, living in that house with three guys for a year, developed her mind. She was an adult, she was like a normal person. I was able to connect with her. We could talk. We were even romantically involved for a short time, until of course she met some teenage guy with a cool hat and ran off with him. Nikki proved that a young girl can develop the mind of an adult, and suddenly get along with a guy, whom she previously could not get along with. So when I met Mandi Jackson, I figured in a year or two she would just awaken to some facts of life, like old guys are dangerous. Or we would at least develop some rapport, to where she would trust me when I explained it to her. But a year and a half later she still had no sense that old guys are dangerous. In fact, she thought old guys were really easy sex addicts who just handed out money, like me. And the world was a happy wonderland of Walmart gift cards and sex. Her brain re-routing and developing the mind of an adult was still a long way off, and her trusting me was having the totally wrong effect. So I thought maybe there had to be some bad experiences for Mandi to learn from. Maybe she has to be taught to be scared, like a bear that comes to campers for food. So when she called the police on me at my house and police asked if I wanted to press charges against her, I had about three seconds to think about it and say "yes." Given about three seconds to consider it, I thought this will scare her away from driving around town crying and having sex with old guys all day. All it really did was teach her never to talk to police if something bad happens to her. When Mandi got locked in jail for using Mulrenin's credit cards as if they were mine, it ruined the study. Whatever development was going to take place in her brain, it was going to be demented and deformed by the jail environment. She would learn crazy lessons from conniving sociopaths, and bully guards, and being locked in solitary and drugged all day. That is the world she would "wake up" in, and it would leave her with permanently maladjusted psychology. After however many years waiting to go to trial during this critical development period, she was going to be permanently fucked. Though I did hear she had become interested in reading simple books in jail, like junk mystery crime novels. So I sent her "Shogun", because it goes into great physical detail, to create a setting for the introduction of strange and simple concepts of human behavior. But I don’t think she ever read it. According to the girls I talked to from the jail, Mandi slept for 23 hours a day. She only woke up for an hour each night until they gave her more pills, and she went back to sleep again. The first strange thing, was Mandi asked me to come visit her in the Orange County jail around July 2019. IV-65