Incident details

I won the 2020 Green Card Lottery and moved to the USA in 2022. I have a Master's degree in economics and work as a claims adjuster. My background includes clothing design and software development. Not bad for a start.

I have always loved creating things. In my childhood, besides reading, I enjoyed drawing. As an adult, I made clothes before I started coding to earn a living. Here is an example of my work: a sweater and a scarf.

I didn't use magazine patterns to make clothes. For each knitted item, I created original designs and calculated measurements for different sizes. I used CAD software to draft patterns.

My transition to software development happened by chance when I received a MacBook as a gift. While exploring free applications in the App Store, I found Xcode. Since my first computer-related profession was as a Computer Operator, Xcode sparked my interest in learning modern programming skills. I started with books on Xcode and C, then expanded into Python and JavaScript.

In general, progress was slow as I had to learn English simultaneously. It could take me about 2 hours to complete each 20-minute video on Coursera with subtitles, but I didn't give up because I wanted to create an online store for my handmade clothes.

After completing one of the Coursera courses, I realized that the final project resembled a real-world website. At the same time, I understood that the more complex the clothes I made, the more equipment I needed. In general, making clothes requires a set of specialized machines.

Buying a whole fleet of sewing machines wasn’t part of my plan, since I had many reasons to move. I thought, "Should I try to make a living as a developer?" No knitting machines, no sewing machines — just a laptop in my backpack

My hobby turned into my profession step by step.

I won the Green Card Lottery in 2019. Since I was living in Crimea, a region disputed between Russia and Ukraine, and was considered Ukrainian by the USA, I needed to prepare Ukrainian documents to proceed.

It didn’t happen quickly because of the COVID story, but I prepared and sent all the required documents, and in September 2020, I received an email stating that my interview was scheduled at the Kyiv embassy. It wasn’t easy, and COVID restrictions made it even harder to get to Kyiv from Crimea.

In Kyiv, I got my documents ready, passed the medical examination and embassy interview, paid the fees, and got my visa!

My visa wasn’t helpful because it was subject to Trump’s COVID-era proclamation, which restricted entry to the US. I had a visa, but I couldn’t enter the country. By autumn 2020, I already had 2 years of experience in IT, but I needed more. Crossing borders was challenging then, so I stayed in Kyiv, found another job, and registered as an entrepreneur.

Screenshots in the slider below:

I had lived in Kyiv until February 2022. It was a hectic time: I worked as a developer, went to driving school, and at some point, even worked two jobs.

I arrived in Austin in February 2022.

It was a hard time when I needed to have a proven address (rent an apartment) to get a credit card and a credit score (read: credit card first) to rent an apartment.

And in the US, you need to have an income that is three times the rent. A pretty tricky task for many.

As for me, I was working remotely on a German fintech project through a Ukrainian outsourcing company, and all my income went through a bank account. I didn't have a problem proving my income, but I had to find an apartment without a credit score.

I met Vadim and Yuliia Legkostup in a Telegram group for Russian-speaking Green Card lottery winners. They were Green Card Lottery winners from Kyiv. Without a car, I accepted Vadim's offer to drive me to stores and banks. They referred me to their apartment complex—Onyx183, located at 6800 McNeil Dr. I was able to rent an apartment without a credit score.

I was the only person who leased and lived in the apartment.

There were concerning interactions from the start. When I mentioned being from Sevastopol, I noticed immediate hostility from Yuliia, likely due to tensions surrounding Crimea and Sevastopol. Later, in a furniture store, Vadim commented that I should choose a bed based on what I wanted to do on it. At the time, I regarded it as a stupid joke.

A series of setbacks followed: an allergic reaction from a kettle gifted by them, a COVID infection from them, and a post-sick-leave layoff. I blamed no one for this, but decided to cut down on communication.

I stopped communicating with them entirely several months later.

I was already working at Walmart at that time and began to suspect that something bad had happened. Yulia worked in a different Walmart store. I met her near the pool and told her that I suspected I had been raped while I was sleeping in my apartment, and asked if she knew anything. She knew I lived alone.

Yulia laughed at my assumption that someone had broken into my apartment and drugged me while I was sleeping. Then she made the following comment: "Well, my friend Dasha has sex behind garages in Kyiv with everyone, and that's why no one needs her. You are pure, someone could do it but I know nothing.".

After that, I tried to talk about it again with her, but she denied knowing anything.

I didn't believe her words, since it seemed unreal that we lived in the same building complex and she heard nothing.

I stopped communicating with them because I saw that they both objectify women and treat people as things. I also didn’t believe in their friendship due to many reasons.

Screenshots from open sources, including Telegram. Her last message, reveals there were no genuine intentions of friendship or help. One message was sent after I returned to Crimea, proving they tracked my movements.

These people pretended to be friends, but they were not.

Yuliia was still working at Walmart the last time I visited her LinkedIn page.

Going back to my setbacks, I was laid off after my COVID sick leave.

Unemployed in a foreign country, I faced financial constraints and language barriers that hindered my success in technical interviews.

The first thing I decided to do was take the driving tests and finally get a driver’s license. Just thinking about driving stressed me out, but step by step, I learned the material.

In general I was overwhelmed by the environment and was in what we call "culture shock". Despite that I got my driver license in November and started looking for a job. I considered retail and small freelance projects that I could tackle in my state.

And it happened! In December, I found a part-time job as a React Developer and got a job as a personal shopper at Walmart. Having two jobs instead of one was even better for me. I expected to adapt faster to the new country.

The following months were extremely hectic. Five days a week, I worked an 8-hour shift at Walmart in the morning. Apple Health showed 8 to 9 miles every shift, and that’s not all. I picked a huge amount of different items and carried baskets full of goods from one place to another. Then I came home and worked as a developer or cooked. On the other two days, I went to the gym, worked as a developer, and cooked.

I wanted to pay off my car as soon as possible, since the 8% interest rate seemed too high compared to the usual 3%.

I only had time to work, work out, cook (I eat at home and prefer not to eat out), and sleep.

My task at Walmart was to fulfill online orders. I was a top performer, but I faced consistent hostility from managers and colleagues. They didn’t hesitate to throw offensive words at me and discuss me without involving me in the conversations from the start.

Screenshots:

My accent and nationality, despite providing proper documentation, fueled rumors and discrimination. Managers, including an unrelated Team Lead, Stefani Rufin, monitored me and spread falsehoods. This toxic environment made interactions tense and isolated me from forming friendships.

Later, Stefani Rufin became the HR manager.

I proceeded to apply to IT jobs and go to technical interviews. One day I heard one of coworkers - Kyle yelled “She failed. She is a monkey coder and he said her resume's shit!”. As if putting meat on the shelves all the life like Kyle is any better.

Just before this I failed an interview. I also heard managers discussed it too. I started to suspect that they were stalking me outside the store.

In the beginning they called me a racist, a Russian scout, and a liar, but never had an open dialogue with me.

My hard work was rewarded with exhaustion, not recognition. The store seemed focused on witch hunts than on fulfilling its core responsibilities.

I felt like a target. I considered quitting Walmart, but my only other job was a part-time freelance project, which was unreliable. Furthermore, I couldn’t identify the source of the harassment, making it impossible to seek help or find a resolution.

Screenshots:

One morning, I woke up feeling unwell. My vision was blurry, my eye hurt, and I thought it might be due to sunburn. I experienced abdominal and kidney pain, blood in urine and dysuria, along with pain in my leg and arm. I had tachycardia, weakness, and a headache. I felt dizzy, and at times, I was about to pass out. Later I found several bruises on my body. They were small and perfectly round. Now I understand that they could be marks after traumatic gun. I opened a new toothpaste that I bought at Walmart and started to brush my teeth. It was pretty strange, but during the brushing, I smelled something foul. I thought, 'Wow, toothpaste from Walmart is made from shit.' As I later learned, it wasn't just the toothpaste; some people in Walmart too.

I had a nightmare that night, but I ignored it. In that nightmare, I saw Mohammadjavad Heidari. I was trying to reach my phone, but he threw it down on the floor. Then I turned my head and saw someone else, maybe several men. Then something wet was applied to my face, someone climbed up and I passed out.

I had been working long hours and hadn’t been engaging in any risky lifestyle activities. I went to bed alone, dressed, and woke up alone, still dressed. I attributed the symptoms to fatigue and a possible cold. I also needed to pay bills, so I got up and went to Walmart. I usually don’t complain about feeling unwell, especially in such a hostile environment, so I only mentioned the eye pain.

The next several days were extremely difficult. I probably even skipped a day staying at home. I recall that colleagues discussed my appearance, fit and body which struck me as odd. I was wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck and jeans, so I couldn't understand what they were referring to.

In about a week or two weeks I noticed that people around me reacted on me even more active then ever before. After they saw me in Walmart or another space they looked at me and laughed without starting a talk with me.

My attention to detail and analytical skills were crucial in understanding what happened.

Mohammadjavad Heidari is originally from Iran. He worked at the same Walmart as me and pretended to become my friend, but I often noticed him mocking me and provoked conflicts behind my back, so I didn’t trust him and maintained distance.

Most people called him Mohammad. Once before the attack he told me:

It was pure manipulation from his side.

In about several days after the attack, he came to me angry and said "Olha, go do an oversized order." Oversized orders frequently were very heavy. Staying ther I got a flashback of being in bed sleeping and someone putting a tablet into my mouth. I only remeber fingers, that put it into my mouth. Then I realized that my period had been delayed.

I thought "If my nightmare had not been just a nightmare, he might have wanted to provoke my period." Then I thought "But he cannot know if it's delayed. I never shared it with anyone at all." And I forgot about it for some time.

A few days after the incident — or maybe right after it - one associate asked another:

She looked confused and frustrated, one of the few truly mature people in the backrooms. She never laughed at it. I didn’t know what they were discussing. For me, it was just people talking. No one talked to me.

Bakery department guys:

I didn't understand the term "tart" at first and found the conversation confusing since they worked in Bakery. I didn't connect it to myself as I hadn't had recent surgery and never agreed to sterilization. However, I decided to pay closer attention to understand what was happening.

Cashiers:

Managers in backrooms:

After speaking with a colleague in the backroom, I walked past the managers toward a door. As I approached, GM Coach Beatriz Del Valle shouted, "Happy layer!" Store Manager Tammy Kayzer then opened the door from the other side. All three of them had walkie-talkies and laughed as I passed.

A girl in the aisle where I worked looked at me and asked her mother, "Is this the woman who [unclear]?" Her mother quickly took her away from the aisle...

Asset Protection Operation Coach Nora Espinoza walked with an invited specialist and watched how I worked. Nora explained to her that I was a stranger, that I wasn’t broken, and that I was fine. At the end, I heard the specialist say, "Well, she walks, I don’t know".

Mohammadjavad Heidari spoke to other coworkers:

A customer, an elderly woman asked Mohammad reproachfully:

My supervisor, Maria Mora-Aviles, walked around the store and told coworkers, "She is alive, she doesn't remember, she walks and she can be fired.". She had got the role just some days before.

Some others also expressed surprise that I walk.

Around this time, I remembered a nightmare I had when I became ill. It was an insane situation.

Coworkers in the digital department discussed that coach Seen M. Norman visited an attorney, and everything is bad.

Sean M. Norman after he appeared in the store, was talking to an associate:

Later, he told someone on the phone: "I loved her! I loved her!".

I was completely confused and didn't understand what that meant. Why were they checking if I could walk? Who cried? Who screamed? Why was I called a "happy layer"? Who doesn't remember? How did this happen to me? If it relates to me, why didn't anyone ask me?

I started to connect that nightmare to my current health condition and the things people were saying around me. I couldn't even admit to myself that I suspected rape or torture. How did it happen? Did I forget to lock my door? Even if I forgot once, how did the attackers learn about it and exploit it? Who are Mahmud and Andy? Or was it just the Walmart team bullying and making fun of me? But if it was only bullying, why did customers participate? And why did I feel so unwell? I also remembered waking up that morning with my pajamas on backward. Since I had two jobs and was constantly tired, I initially attributed it to fatigue, but then I thought they could have dressed me to remove evidence.

I also recalled an earlier conversation between People Lead Josh Motoya and Beatriz Del Valle as they passed by me:

This wasn't true. I was financially stable. I didn't know why they discussed my financial state without involving me.

Once, Mohammad asked how I earned a living. I replied that I had two jobs and this was a good start. He used a walkie - talkie, so managers likely heard our conversation. They should've known I am financially stable. Anyway, they didn't ask me.

Mohammad Heidari started to behave as if we were close people and he had the right to control me. Once he tried to touch my face. I didn't allow.

It is typical for abusers: they isolate a victim and do what they want.

At that point, I didn’t understand much, but I felt he might be a danger. I stopped talking to him and asked him to leave me alone. One day, he waited for me near my car in the parking lot. He tried to get into my car while I was getting in, without my permission, but I locked the door and drove away. The next day, I reported him to the manager.

In order to understand what was going on, I asked a coworker who was seeking friendship with me about the strange things happening. I mentioned a nightmare and how people were discussing pornography or rape. I thought it could be related.

She said she would help me find a psychologist if I had been raped, but that if I had no memory, nothing happened. She insisted that I would not be able to walk if I had been raped.

This was the moment I decided to meet Yulia near the pool and ask her. It was when she laughed and recalled her friend Dasha behind the garages, but she told me she knew nothing about the incident with me.

I recalled that during my Walmart shift, I heard a conversation in aisles in Russian between a man and woman. They discussed something like a rape incident without protection that resulted in bleeding, which he attributed to hemorrhoids. The woman questioned him sternly about infections and demanded providing psychological help, but he dismissed it saying "She doesn't remember, no need.".

After Yulia claimed she knew nothing about what happened to me, I connected this conversation to my case. Her lie seemed to be a way to protect her friends. Through Walmart's system, I identified a Russian-named Team Lead in auto service — Andrey Borovitskiy — who had worked there for 8 years. There was also another Slavic-named manager, Anna Mastryukova. Additionally, there was a pharmacist with the Russian surname Polyakova. They were not related to the Digital Department, so I never saw or talked to them. Managers' positions gave them access to personal information and authority among associates.

This could explain Walmart management's actions: if some of them abused their power or committed a crime, they could discuss it in Russian, or the abuser could use a female interpreter during Walmart investigation. They could use their authority to cover up the crime, blaming me and attempting to terminate my employment to get rid of me, despite my being a top performer and no one even trying to talk to me.

It became clear how others learned I spoke Russian from the beginning of my time at Walmart. Topics like "Why does she speak Russian if she's from Ukraine?", "She's a Russian scout" and "She's a Ukrainian prostitute" were spread to dehumanize me and make the rape seem justified and legal.

They also claimed that the self-directed speech I used is a mental illness. They didn’t talk to me about it directly, so I learned about it by chance, and I had to shut up.

Self-directed speech has been linked to cognitive processes. It turns out that Walmart managers are not educated enough to know about it. People without proper education but with a porter syndrome can make life miserable.

Of course, I would like to believe that nothing happened, but everything that was happening to me and around me made it impossible to think that way. People didn’t keep their distance, laughed at me, and called me "The baby", "Dumpster", "Stupid", "Shiteater" and "Retarded" This happened at Walmart and beyond.

I noticed that some of the managers and associates watched a video. I never saw it, but while working at Walmart, I heard a woman screaming, and the voice sounded like mine. The woman was asking for help in Russian. It could have been me in that video.

I didn’t know whom to ask. It felt like a dead end.

I was shocked, confused, and scared. Even after hearing all that, I couldn't understand what had really happened. It seemed completely inconceivable and confusing, as I lived alone, went to bed alone, and woke up alone.

The ongoing conversations and health issues pushed me to schedule an appointment with a gynecologist at Austin Regional Clinic to Dr Kristen J Hansen-Peterman. I made the appointment before I even started asking people about what had happened. They scheduled me for two weeks later.

Before going there, I did tests on my own, as I was searching for signs of rape and worried about infections. The first lab test showed that I had been infected with herpes simplex 2. This was the first thing I discovered (June 12, 2023). It didn’t fit into my understanding of the world — I thought the result had to be a mistake.

The first doctor denied she saw trauma but said that 3 weeks after a possible injury, it's not always possible to detect it. She also ignored that my uterus was twice my normal size on ultrasound until I pointed it out myself. Moreover, despite the fact that I paid with my credit cards, I had to write a request to see the ultrasound results; without it, they wouldn't give them to me and simply said everything was normal.

At another clinic, Dr. Kathryn Landherr made me wait while asking someone, "Does she remember?" During the appointment, she was rude and arrogant. When I said I wanted to report it to the police, she yelled, "Whom to report??" and told me to see a psychologist. She prescribed unnecessary tests — some I had already done and told her about at the start of the appointment, while others were prescribed too early without considering incubation periods. I experienced bleeding after her examination, which wasn't typical for me either.

I had no medical insurance for this and paid with my credit cards. Despite that, Walmart managers discussed all the results, including the "skin tag" that Landherr diagnosed.

Walmart associate Kyle, who had previously run around the store with a happy face screaming, "She is a monkey coder" said to another coworker, while discussing an emergency situation where a man was threatening to shoot a girl, "She could die, that’s not just a skin tag like hers."

I faced a harsh situation. It seemed the predators used my data to access and falsify medical results. I felt like I was paying for fake results, unable to understand why they would steal my medical information unless it was to manipulate things in their favor.

I saw a pattern — they targeted me because I lived alone, was new to the area, and had no support. They dehumanized me to prevent sympathy, entered my apartment, drugged me, raped me, and recorded it. They dressed me afterward, hoping I wouldn't remember. They spread the video days or weeks later, after most forensic evidence was gone, likely to profit from it. Then, they began ruining my life, leaving me without resources to either exploit me for human trafficking or dispose of me. I lived a simple life — work, sleep, eat — no parties, no drinking, no drugs. I realized I had encountered human traffickers.

I recalled an auto service worker at the store seeking me out to offer a room for rent. But I had already rented my own apartment — why would I need a room? It only reinforced my suspicions about human trafficking at Walmart. A rented room would have made their attack easier — simpler to enter, drug me, and carry out everything without resistance.

I had nothing concrete to report to the police. "Do you know, officer, they talk??" I was in a foreign-language environment, and all I had were people’s conversations, especially since the gynecologists claimed there were no injuries. I felt conflicted. A part of me still couldn’t fully believe what had happened.

I started posting on social media, looking for witnesses. First, I asked in Russian-speaking chats.

In a women’s chat, some suggested I see a psychologist. Others completely ignored my words about possible drug use and kept referring to what was rape as "sex". They claimed it was impossible to have sex and not remember. But one message stood out to me — from a user named Julia Richard. She was from Kyiv, Ukraine

I didn’t know her, and we had never spoken before. However, I had been reading the chat from time to time and knew she could easily manipulate people and information. She insisted that no one was plotting against me on a global scale. This caught my attention because I had never mentioned anything about a global-scale conspiracy (which could be perceived as a sign of mental illness). Her words eerily invalidated my experience, implying that I was feeling something that didn’t exist. I also recalled how Walmart employees had expressed concerns about self-directed speech, claiming it is a mental illness.

This coincidence seemed strange, and since she offered to meet, I agreed.

Screenshots: Below are some screenshots from the Russian-speaking chat. Use google tanslate with camera to translate it.

During the meeting, I noticed men at the table behind me. I hadn’t seen them before, and they didn’t look like Americans. At least one of them I saw again after the meeting, at the residential complex where I lived and later at Walmart, wearing a T-shirt with the Texas state outline, painted in Ukrainian flag colors.

Julia Richard asked questions, and after realizing that I hadn’t seen the video recording and only had information from people who had talked near me, she seemed to relax more.

She suggested inviting Mohammadjavad Heidari to my apartment to "check if he had been there before." I didn’t expect such bullshit from an adult woman. It was obvious that this method couldn’t be safe or accurate. Were they trying to get proof that I had invited him myself as a friend?

She also offered to help me find a psychologist from Ukraine.

I refused, saying that rape is a crime and must be punished. She looked scared.

People in other chats literally told me that if I didn’t have forensic tests, then everything was just my "imagination" and a mental illness.

Meanwhile, Walmart managers followed my search for witnesses and information. They laughed at me.

The store manager, Tammy Kayser, gathered all the managers near the digital department, and I heard part of her speech:

Who are "they"? Who were they communicating with about me?

Once I heard Bakery TL Matthew Ross told one of the digital department associates:

Several days before that, they discussed that Sean M. Norman had agreed not to fire me within the next 3 months, and the reason was related to hepatitis B. It sounded wild, but it turned out they could fire me even earlier if I was vaccinated and couldn't be infected. I never gave them information about my vaccination, and I actually wasn't vaccinated, though I had antibodies. I knew their quantity and dynamics (they were decreasing after meeting infection and recovering from it, in Kyiv they were 901 units).

I took a hepatitis B antibody test to verify that I had understood correctly and to reassure myself that what was happening was real, rather than a misinterpretation or adaptation error.

The test I did in Austin showed that antibodies to hepatitis B had dramatically increased (>1000.0 mIU/mL). A difference of more than 100 units is significant; this happened because I had been exposed to the infection again or had been vaccinated. Before I received results in Austin, somewhere behind the wall of my apartment, I heard "fulminant hepatitis.". I was interested in what I had heard behind the wall at home.

I knew I didn’t have infectious hepatitis because I have immunity, but to those who didn’t know how to read the results, it could look like fulminant hepatitis. Some of them lived not just in my complex but in my building—and somehow got the results before me.

Medical manipulations felt more real than before — it was probably more than just a shot. I recalled talks about sterilization, which by then already seemed connected to me. They did it without my consent, like I was a test object. I felt lost, like I hadn’t arrived in a civilized country but in fascist Auschwitz.

After receiving my hepatitis B antibody test results, I told myself there were too many strange things — I had to be brave enough to say someone had broken into my apartment.

I could no longer attribute it to an adaptation error.

I was in a foreign country and didn’t know what to do. I went to a law firm — DC Law Injury Lawyers.

After they met me, they discussed it among themselves. One woman said to another, "They say it’s an assault, and she says it’s a rape. [unclear] It will be the most stupid suit in the world."

Then I was invited to speak with an assistant. She listened to me and said something like, "It’s very emotional, but without a video recording, it’s difficult.". She promised to speak with a lawyer and get back to me. Their advice was to go to the police first since I didn’t remember anything — they should investigate and find the video.

Later, I saw their car parked near Walmart, sitting there all day.

I reported to the Austin Police Department. First, I spoke to an officer at the entrance while I waited for the officer who would actually take the report. Reporting, I noticed that when I mentioned waking up and seeing some men, they asked if I had seen a woman there. It seemed like they could know what happened.

The next day, the whole store discussed how I cried there and what I told them, saying I wouldn’t prove anything. They lauthed.

And this was before I even met the detective assigned to the case. A week later, I met Detective Lana Toporek. She seemed friendly but said that since so much time had passed, I hadn’t done forensic testing, and I didn’t have the video, it would likely be impossible to proceed. She said she would request my medical records and talk to coworkers. I could tell she wasn’t motivated to investigate. What medical records if I told her that gyneclogists didn't find injuries?

She could have checked cloud providers and more. A few days later, she visited the store, and afterward, I noticed my coworkers almost stopped discussing the incident when I was nearby. But their desire to fire me grew much stronger.

The Austin Police Department wasn’t going to work on the case at all. I realized this when I heard a Team Lead on smth. told to an associate that Walmart and the police had agreed to send me to a psychologist.

Soon after I reported to the police, Store Manager Tammy Kayzer, People Lead Josh Motoya, and Auto Service Coach Derek Bowers were transferred to another store.

No one asked for my input or opened a dialogue with me.

I was desperate and posted a long message in another Telegram chat of DV2020 winners.

One of the participants suggested I go to Nextdoor.

I wrote several posts on Nextdoor and continued in Telegram. In these posts, I asked any witnesses to share information about what happened or provide a video. I didn’t find any witnesses there, but some people suggested I go to SAFE Alliance in Austin for help, while others recommended seeing a lawyer to improve communication with the police.

At first, I called a lawyer in Dallas – The Simpson Tuegel Law Firm. They didn’t take the case.

From my apartment, I caught pieces of a conversation, probably from outside the building:

I realized that these phrases most likely applied to me. Did they really have a Supreme Court and Commander in Chief in Walmart, or were they trying to confuse me into saying nonsense? Was I caught up in some religious sect? If this involved me, why wasn’t I invited to participate in the court? I kept guessing who the commander could be.

After I learned the police weren’t going to work on my case, I submitted my first FBI claim through their web form, reporting human trafficking. An officer visited the store the next day but never spoke to me. She spent considerable time with the managers and left with a disgusting grin. It seemed like the American police and FBI only work in American movies... I filed another claim about illegal drug trafficking, as the absence of memory regarding the incident indicated severe amnesia — the kind that is caused by drugs.

No one contacted me. But my situation became worse. That time I was working in an aisle and I had heard how customers, passing by me discussed that I "even can use a phone". It was something new. I recalled that few hours ago a coworker said to a customer "She doesn't talk. She can't. Retarded." I didn't know what is "retarded" and after I heard an amazed by me using a phone customer I translated it. I was dumbstruck. I didn't know those people but they somehow knew me? Who spread such rumors? From a russian scout to a prostitute to a retarded?? They had systematically destroyed my reputation at Walmart while I was helpless to stop it. But calling someone "retarded" meant more than just damaging my reputation. Were they trying to deprive me of my legal capacity?

I contacted SAFE Alliance in Austin. We scheduled a call. During a call with lawyer Teresa Benitez, she focused only on recording my story rather than answering my questions about communicating with the Police and FBI. She promised to contact me later. Several weeks passed before she responded, only to decline my case.

Walmart managers added psychosis to their narratives, likely trying to explain to some activists why I posted on social media that I had learned about the rape from people's dialogue.

Since I suspected the Walmart app had excessive permissions, I asked Digital Coach Sean Norman for a corporate phone to keep Walmart apps, but he refused, saying they had no phone for me. I removed all their apps from my personal phone and installed them on my old phone. That day, Walmart managers looked surprised.

A few days later, my phone was flooded with spam messages containing suspicious links.

After I reported to FBI I heard that one associate in Walmart said to another one "They stole her personal data". Maria Mora-Aviles told others they found large amounts of laundry, herbal tea, and wine in my apartment. They sounded triumphant, building their narrative about alcohol consumption and risky lifestyle. The truth is:

Of course they knew forced sterilization is a crime against humanity, condemned by many international organizations, including the World Health Organization. Breaking into an apartment and gang rape are felonies. They were determined to hide these crimes at any cost, attempting to reframe a criminal case into a civil dispute.

And even that civil dispute they planned to resolve without my involvement

All these narratives about risky lifestyle and low mental abilities were directed toward this aim.

They were unhappy that I reported to Police and FBI. My posts on social media made them angry.

Though my performance dropped, I still maintained above 100. After I posted on Nextdoor about injured in the incident leg affecting my physical work at Walmart, GM Coach Beatriz Del Valle told a coworker, "She broke it somewhere else." I heard someone said, "They will kill her" and later an associate from Bakery said, "It will shake her!"

The next day, I got into a major car accident.

While I was crossing the intersection from the side road and making my left turn, I was hit by a car on my left. I was hit on the driver's door.

I remember checking if other vehicles had stopped before beginning my turn. I remember the hit and the airbags deploying.

After I got out of the car, I exchanged insurance information with the other driver. He said that calling the police was unnecessary. He and his mother said they were fine and drove off. When I returned to my car, it would not start.

A man passing by with his kids stopped and helped me move my car off the road. He called the police. While waiting, I managed to get the car moving by removing the deployed airbags from the windows and releasing the gear shift that got stuck after the crash. Since the police didn't come and it was too hot to stay there, I finally left.

I was stunned by the airbags and wasn't sure about not calling the police as my car seemed severely damaged. Later at home, I asked about it from the manager of my freelance project, who said it was okay not to call if no one was injured.

The strangest thing happened after that call: I heard someone who sounded like Mohammadjavad shouting in the apartment complex, "She hit and run. She hid her car in the garage!" I was amazed since I didn't know he lived there. I didn't know that days later this "hit and run" story would spread through the city and Walmart would use it to fire me.

Before this accident, I had several close calls on the road. One time I almost hit a garbage truck - I was heading to the highway when this truck suddenly left the ramp intersection, pulled onto the entrance ramp, and just stopped. I had to slam on my brakes hard to avoid hitting it.

I also experienced tailgating several times.

After my accident, I started thinking about all these near-misses, and something clicked. I remembered that Walmart manager Andrew Calvio told a merchandiser they had to fire or move lots of people — or just me.

It frightened me even more. They would do anything to hide their mistakes and crimes, and Walmart would back them up just to hide that they had a gang operating there.

The next morning after the car incident, I checked the Walmart app and noticed Mohammadjavad and TL Andrey Borovitskiy weren't in the store. A coworker mentioned they were reviewing cameras.

Since I didn't trust Walmart people anymore, I tried to get video records myself. Almost nothing was visible on the Walmart cameras. They only showed a car similar to mine starting to move through the intersection, then it flew out to the opposite side, and stopped. Trees blocked the view of the road; the road that was visible remained empty, as if the car flew out and stopped by itself. Another party wasn't visible.

Murthy gas station near the accident site refused to show video records, saying only police or lawyers could view them. When I called the police, they wouldn't take a report since no one was injured. My next step was to ask a lawyer from SAFE to get the records. It was that call when she only asked questions and never answered... I understood that I was left without video records the second time...

People in the county were discussing my rape—some in Austin even found it amusing: "She won a rape! Ha-ha-ha." They were also talking about my accident, wondering why I ran and hid my car in the garage.

Days later at the store, I had to register my phone in their network again. Coworkers were talking about how managers had fired and rehired "her" without "her" knowledge. I spoke to Digital Coach Sean Norman. First, I asked why customers were saying I had hit and run. He claimed he didn’t know.

Later, I asked if I had any warnings. He said no and claimed ignorance about the firing rumors. After our talk, he went to the personnel site and I heard:

They did everything behind my back

I had insurance, and after the accident, I reported it to get compensation.

By that time, I had already posted several posts on Nextdoor, and some people asked managers at Walmart if I had received compensation.

Walmart's gang assured those around that they were about to “compensate” me for my injuries! Then I thought, what bullshit—how could they confirm this?

It became clear after I received the money. They showed something to the activists. I think it was my bank account balance.

An associate who worked at the entrance assured a customer that they ‘compensated everything.’. The same person who had mocked my accent before. He looked like he was from the Middle East. Of course, he didn't hear his own accent.

They stole my personal data and used the money I earned by working hard for their own benefit. I didn't feel safe there, as it seemed like they didn’t feel any boundaries.

My last attempt to protect myself in this situation was to report the identity theft and stalking to 311 and write to Detective Toporek.

I sent Detective Lana Toporek several emails reporting that it looked like my personal data had been stolen. I also reported tailgating and the major car incident.

During my communication with law enforcement, I stressed the importance of understanding what happened to me in order to manage my health and life. However, they consistently insisted on working with a psychologist only. When I refused psychological assistance before receiving medical attention for issues with my kidneys and other concerns, they advised me to simply work harder to get over it.

They advised an injured woman, who already had two jobs, to work harder!

On September 13, my application for crime victim compensation was rejected because "there wasn’t enough evidence to prove the elements of criminally injurious conduct against me."

Indeed, how could they have proven anything if hospitals provided fake results and the police didn’t do anything to find the video record that could prove the crime?

On September 29, I got a call from Detective Lana Toporek. She wasn't nice anymore. She said that she found nothing — no video, no other evidence of the crime — and that I would not hear from her anymore. The connection wasn't good and I asked her to send me the police report. She ignored my request to send me an email with the report.

Nobody contacted me regarding stalking or identity theft. I only received a voicemail saying the Austin Police Department wasn’t able to contact me. This voicemail didn’t make any sense, as my phones were switched on, I didn’t receive any calls from them, and they didn’t try to contact me by email. My antivirus considered the webpage they provided in their voicemail as harmful.

Detective Lana Toporek disposed of my case in her police report, which repeated false narratives from Walmart management about my mental health issues. I was able to receive it only one year later, as she ignored my request to send it by email. I didn't know I had to file a FOIA request. I have learnt how to file FOIA on X (Twitter). But even before receiving this report, I knew what I would see there.

After her call, I received an email from my insurance company saying they weren’t able to reach me by phone, which confused me even more.

I wondered if it was possible that they used an SS7 attack.

I decided to buy another phone.

At the store, a woman said, "I don't think she hides her car in the garage; she just left it there as she has it."

A consultant suddenly left while helping me, then returned and said to his colleague, "Unclear... They kind of track her. She already has a phone... unclear." I suspected they wanted my new phone's IMEI. A man of Middle Eastern appearance left the store when I was leaving. I never used that phone.

At Walmart, despite being a top performer, managers told customers I wasn't performing well.

Brandon Plank, likely a service technician, told a group of white men, "It wasn't a rape, she signed an agreement, and everything is paid.". They fled when they saw me. I just wanted to ask what was reportedly signed by me.

I also heard that Mohammadjavad told other associates that he was going to pay me compensation. Some associates discussed that Mohammadjavad had gained access to my phone and was targeting my laptop next. I think he might have accessed my accounts to show screenshots or tamper them. This could also explain the poor connection and unavailability of my phone. Since they had previously discussed finding laundry and wine in my apartment, given that building managers had keys and someone had already forged my signature, I started carrying my documents and laptop to Walmart. My laptop had been my main income source for years, and it would have been a huge loss, especially since I had a new MacBook Pro on credit.

The huge company was using my insurance money to falsely claim they had compensated me and my personal data to forge documents.

Everywhere in the city, I faced ridicule and condemnation. It was so bad that I couldn't believe it.

Days after Detective Toporek found no evidence, Officer Derrick Barnes sent me an email offering mental health resources for "hearing voices". I explained that I was hearing actual people and had audio records. Soon after, my MacBook stopped accepting my password, and I lost my 10-year-old account.

Every day, Team Lead Maria Mora-Aviles wanted to fire me. She, along with stocking coach Brian Zahm and GM coach Beatriz Del Valle, pressured associates to report about me.

I often heard them saying to each other and to associates: "She will be fine" "She has to go". Why would I suddenly become fine? What did they do to fix what they did? It was pure cowardice and meanness, but they seemed to see nothing wrong with it.

I personally heard Brian Zahm, a coach from another department, telling one of the digital department associates that she must say and do what they said if she wanted to stay there. She had migrated from Venezuela to the USA to experience "democracy".

I looked back and counted my losses – broken body, the car, and job opportunities at other companies closed by Walmart. I realized that as long as I worked at Walmart, they would use this to discredit me, track me, ruin me, and could even kill me.

I didn't feel safe there and couldn't stay in the hostile environment. I didn't understand what I could do about it and wanted to take a break.

Initially, I planned to take 3 months of unpaid leave. I sent request via web form. But when they sent a text claiming they couldn't reach me by phone about it, I gave up and quit – I couldn't bear this horror any longer.

Throughout this time, I searched for witnesses and evidence by posting on Nextdoor and Telegram. But people just questioned why I wasn't seeing a psychologist instead, saying they only wanted to discuss dogs and nails.

Suspecting that my devices were still being tracked despite changed passwords, a reset router, and an installed VPN, I decided to upgrade my iPhone. I didn't place an order for it. I decided to buy whatever they had in the store. I went to Dallas for it. Since I was using a rented car at that time, I didn't have much time as the insurance company had set restrictions on what they would compensate.

In the store, I asked the consultant not to give the IMEI of my new phone to anybody, even if they insisted that I needed supervision and assistance due to my mental abilities. He agreed.

A store customer and an Apple consultant near me discussed something like: "They track her. This is what she tries to fix. Nice try".

After I bought the new iPhone, I walked around the shopping mall and saw a man speaking on the phone. "They said "Nice try,"" he said indignantly. I don't know if he was outraged because they gave the IMEI to somebody, or if he was the one who wanted to get it but was refused.

One day at home, I was talking to a russian-speaking manager from one of my previous projects and I told him my story and that I reported it to the FBI. The next day, two new Wi-Fi networks appeared near me. Their names were related to the FBI. I know there were no such networks before because I had reset my router beforehand.

At that moment, I had already left Walmart, but it didn’t help me. They decided to make a joke out of the felony.

In November 2023, my freelance contract ended. I was reading something when it got noisy in a neighbor's apartment. Then a group of people left, and a woman said outside to somebody: "She’s alive and reading. She's tied up. Hahaha.". Considering the circumstances and that some people had previously discussed the incident saying that I was tied up in the video, this wordplay caused me fear and disgust.

Since I used a VPN and set up the router with stricter settings, I suspected there could be an installed camera in the apartment. This way they could know what I say, what I do, and which doctor I would go to.

I was sitting at home when I heard two women talking outside. I assumed that the younger woman (judging by the conversation, a Latina) worked at Visa (maybe not), the older woman, judging by her voice, was most likely African American. The conversation went like this:

I suppose both of them lived in the apartment complex and had different attitudes towards what happened. Gradually, I realized that I was in a foreign country without a job, with broken health, without a chance of finding employment, and in danger.

After Walmart's actions, it appeared I was marked as undesirable, closing doors in IT and other fields.

I was sure that Visa was not the only company where I was strongly undesirable. Due to Walmart's actions, all opportunities for employment in IT or any other field were closed to me. I still didn't know who attacked me and how to ensure safety for myself.

I was sitting at home, thinking of ways to fix at least some of the outcomes, but no solution was coming. I let out a scream. A man outside shouted in a mix of Russian and Ukrainian: "Broken flower, hahaha! Let her go to Russia!"

This is a favorite narrative of Ukrainian nationalists at that point — expressing their hate towards Russians and those they consider Russian. These weren’t just words. One of them, or someone mimicking them, attacked me.

It was the first time I heard someone speaking Ukrainian under my windows. My guess that Vadym and Julia Legkostup referred me to the apartment complex but didn't tell me about their friends at that moment seemed more plausible.

Some days later, I was sitting at home again, thinking of ways to fix at least some of the outcomes. But no solution was coming. I let out another scream. This time, a man outside shouted in English: "Russian scout, hahaha" I recalled that some coworkers at Walmart and customers had called me that too. My attackers worked hard to dehumanize me and spread false statements about me. I wasn't a Russian scout, but who were those people who spread the misinformation?

Later, a man walked around the residential complex area and screamed "Помогите" which means "Help!" in Russian. This was a phrase that I heard when people at Walmart was watching a rape video. I also heard this in the Onyx183 complex.

The first time I couldn't record him. The first time he started yelling when it got dark, I went out on the balcony, but didn't see anyone, although judging by the sound, he was yelling somewhere nearby, but stopped as soon as I went out on the balcony. This further strengthened my suspicions that there might be a video camera installed in the apartment.

I managed to record him. In the video, he is walking outside, screaming "Помогите" and then he meets a woman. It's not very clear what they discuss, but I can assume the dialogue went something like this:

She's kind to be evacuated. Borrow also say to find [unclear]

Good proper early turnaround up until now?

I felt increasingly unsafe with each passing day. I experienced physical pain, and my fear only intensified as I became more aware of the situation.

I screamed often. I couldn’t even suppress it.

After I stopped renting a car, Uber had stopped accepting my payment cards.

That day I went to Apple service, but I couldn’t go back because I couldn’t take an Uber. They restricted my card in the middle of my trip. There was no public transportation! Alone! With difficulty, I found a taxi that took me home at exorbitant prices.

I still needed to return the license plates to my wrecked car. I waited a few days and tried to take an Uber from home. When that didn’t work, I contacted their support. The first support person said something about being unable to lift the restriction and ended the chat. I was only able to use my cards on Uber after several attempts to reach support.

Once I heard two men talking outside in Russian:

They discussed something about breaking, but I didn’t hear it well.

The first man spoke pure Russian, his speech was well-organized and dynamic, indicating that he was a man of intellectual work who stood apart from his friends, who used simple, crude language. It was the first time I heard such fluent Russian there. I guessed he could be a developer.

Really. Why not? The police closed the case, the FBI didn’t react. Lawyers refused to take my case. I was canceled, nobody took me seriously, and nobody told me what happened or who participated.

At that moment, I finally understood. I screamed! I screamed at that video recording they watched and asked for help! But nobody called the police? Or did the police not come? Who participated? How many? Impunity breeds lawlessness. And they could really come again. Who would stop them?

I recalled how girls in Walmart discussed me and one of them told "I don't believe them anymore. I think they did the same with Christie".

I don't know who Christie is. Then I recalled how they discussed a shortage of something near the building and thought they were talking about a cash drawer shortage.

The longer I thought about it, the more I understood what might have happened. What did they use to drug me while I was sleeping at my home, leaving me with no memories? Not every drug causes amnesia. Did they discuss a cash drawer shortage or a drug shortage?

My interest was partially satisfied when one of my neighbors spoke with a Russian/Ukrainian-speaking man. The man expressed knowledge that the shortage wasn't due to something being smashed, but rather it had been taken and misused.

Later, I learned that some drugs can be used not just for anesthesia, but also for questioning.

They also mentioned Christie's disappearance. One of them mocked, "Where is Christie? Ran away into the forest." It's a phrase used to explain the loss of a pet, not a person. I remembered the girls at Walmart talking about Christie. It was probably the same woman. I also recalled their words: "Human life costs nothing".

After I learned the criminals were going to strike again, and with the Austin Police Department and FBI being unresponsive and the criminals feeling emboldened by their impunity, I began making electronic copies of my documents and packing my belongings.

It's an extremely strange and traumatic experience when you suspect you've been a victim of a crime, but have no memory of it, and no one tells you what happened.

I was unable to manage the problem since I had no recollection of the incident. The only hints I received were from strangers who gazed at me with a mix of curiosity and disdain, yet never spoke to me, along with the health problems I suffered as a result of the rape and torture.

My financial potential was below zero, and the only thing that could help me was learning about what happened, but the gang closed off the opportunity to me.

Everywhere I went, I encountered people who reacted with laughter and disdain. For example, on the flight from Detroit to Amsterdam, a young woman behind me asked a steward, "Did she drink? Ha-ha-ha?". He answered, "Only water". Why did she think it was her business if I drank? Or does a woman's alcohol consumption somehow justify rape?

One day, I heard a woman in a store say to someone, "It was just painful. No harm. She is OK."

How did she decide I was OK? What did she do to make me OK? Who gave her the right to evaluate my state?

Some people seem to think that a victim can be "okay" after being raped, with her health and reputation ruined and nothing left to get over. Nothing. Well, perhaps that’s what her parents and friends did to her from an early age — women like her are used to it. No one told her that rape is not something normal people would consider "okay".

In general, Americans seem completely indifferent to crimes.

I didn't make that choice, no one talked to me, but everyone decided that I wanted it without asking me. Like it's a normal situation in America when victims "want it".

After I returned to Crimea, I created an X account in the hope of finding witnesses. I also began reflecting on what happened to me.

I visited a gynecologist. It's extremely difficult to explain to her what America is behind the marketing. She doesn't understand what it might be like when the mafia and narcotics know no boundaries. It's even harder to explain what happened since I don't remember and learned from those around me. Due to many reasons I can't trust those conversations; I can only make suggestions.

Our conversation started with her mistrust of what I said, which she based on the supposed necessity to drink or eat with the attackers. I mentioned that I remembered a tissue on my face. Come on! I could have missed it as my memory is too fuzzy. It should have been her job to ask me questions to recollect any details.

She also said that if they sewed me, I would feel the suture material under my fingers in a few days. Come on! How would I know I was feeling suture material if I didn’t even know I had been sewn? It could have just been the remains of toilet paper.

She was biased but claimed it's not possible to see an injury a year after the incident. I didn’t believe her.

I could go to another doctor and talk to someone else, but it's too difficult and traumatic to share things I've learned from others' talks.

After the appointment, I came home and started thinking about the suture material and toilet paper. I wasn't able to go back to last year and check what it was. I remember feeling numbness on the first suggested morning. Later, something detached from the skin in that area, and I thought how strange it was that toilet paper could stick like that, making it impossible to pull off and why it was so painful. Then, I recalled that before I visited hospitals in Austin, I had severe irritation in that area. I walked 8 miles per day and thought it was causing the irritation and pain. It was so severe that I checked the area and saw the perineum had a dark-blue hue.

I have never given birth and had not had any genital injuries. I don't know if women who have given birth ever see their injured perineum.

The pain didn’t feel like it was from an injury. I didn’t realize I was looking at a fresh scar. Both gynecologists, Dr. Kathryn Landherr and Kristen J. Hansen-Peterman, didn’t tell about it, even though scars are visible three weeks after an injury.

The reason I walked, causing amazed shouts and screams in Walmart, was because the gang might have used implants for pain management, possibly opioid-based. They might also have added painkillers to sugar or food if they had access to my apartment. The use of these drugs alters sensations. If you don't know what happened to you, the numbness and irritation left after using them can feel like a severe flu, depending on the extent of your injuries. Pain will return later, once the implant / drug stops working.

It can also alter your perception of reality. While you would normally be alarmed by every sneeze, if affected by drugs, you may become indifferent to blood in your urine, especially if it happens once or twice. This is especially true if you're in a foreign country, must pay your bills, and rely solely on yourself. Naturally, you ignore the nightmare.

If opioids are used, they can cause hallucinations and addiction... You can also easily get into a car accident because they slow down your reaction time. By secretly adding strong painkillers, they constantly put my life and the lives of other people at risk, because I was driving a car during all that time.

At this point, I recalled that neighbors discussed that they forgot something inside and laughed. A Russian-speaking woman told that they should've made a small incision to put it inside. A woman also told that they must return "her" (probably me, probably to Ukraine or Russia) after what they did with "her". I think she might be Polyakova, the pharmacist at Walmart. Perhaps this is why they were discussing a shortage of something.

I ignored this part of the speech until I learned about implants.

As for the implants, they must be removed after they wear off. Without information about the injury and what they did, it’s almost impossible to investigate and manage. For a radiologist to find the supposed implant, they would need to know where to look.

Recently, I saw a video on X of a woman who was affected by anesthesia. Her speech was slow, and she looked drunk.

Probably because of how people look when affected by anesthesia, my attackers spread narratives about alcohol consumption.

I learned more about anesthesia. There is actually stuff that may be applied to the face. After that, they could give more drugs in tablet form or other forms.

For example, chloroform. It may be used through inhalation and causes unconsciousness when inhaled.

After that, they might have used other drugs to achieve the desired effect. For example, scopolamine. It causes confusion, memory loss, and even a 'zombie-like' state in which victims can be manipulated. It has been abused by criminals to subdue victims and erase memories. It may also be used for questioning.

The fact that they mentioned 'Chief in Commander' and 'Supreme Court' means it wasn’t a random crime. They were an organized group with pretty wide capabilities, separated roles, and medical professionals.

It might also explain how anesthesia and probably implants for pain management were available to them, used illegally.

What else...

In the beginnig this case may seems not real. I had to learn a lot to figure it out and accept it happened.

While writing this material, I ran into several shocking, inconceivable stories. Here are some of them:

I had to ask AI to clarify details to learn what and how they could do. Right after it happened, I didn't understand why I didn't remember anything, but people were discussing it. I had never used narcotics, but I imagined that a person should still remember something under their influence.

Later, I recalled my experience when I woke up during an appendix removal. I remembered how they applied a mask to my face afterward. I also recalled the tissue on my face the night of the incident. I remembered that, in some nightmare, I saw myself on a dark oilcloth... I even remember someone saying in Russian, "Lay down the oilcloth". I remember a fragment of how I was lying face down on this oilcloth. I even told one of the lawyers about it.

In the hospital, you know — you come there, you're prepared, you know why and what is happening, even if you wake up during surgery. But when you go to bed alone and wake up alone, these fragments feel like nightmares, with real consequences for real people.

I even think that this was not the only case. One morning, it happened before the main incident, I discovered that the wire frame of my glasses was cut. I thought it happened because they were old and worn out. The wire had clear edges as if it had been cut, but I lived alone. Who would have cut it? Now I think that maybe someone entered to harass me and cut the frame. I didn't understand anything at the time because my English had been improving over time, but it wasn't enough at the beginning to understand if anyone even discussed it.

Just recently, I recalled a woman from Russia in a Telegram chat of Austin sports people. She lost her job in IT and was struggling to find another one. She claimed she experienced pain in the hip joint area. She didn’t know the reason, just like me. The pain in the hip joint area became stronger. She didn’t consider it to be rape or torture. Just bad luck...

I arrived to America as a legal migrant, working in IT.

I was working hard, and did everything correctly, but after I ran into life-breaking event. Walmart, as my employer, stood with criminals to hide that they host criminals.

Of course, they knew that hacking electronic devices is a felony. This led to personal data leaks, which led to committing other serious crimes, such as breaking into an apartment, administering narcotic substances without the victim's consent, performing medical procedures without the victim's consent, and gang rape. They were aware that all these actions constitute felonies, some of them are prosecuted at the federal level in the USA and condemned by international law.

They saw the results of my work and, of course, none of them seriously considered me mentally deficient. They were determined to hide these crimes at any cost, attempting to turn a criminal case into a civil dispute. And even that civil dispute they planned to resolve without my involvement.

All of the narratives they spread about my risky lifestyle and mental state were carefully designed to undermine my credibility and divert attention from the real issue at hand — felonies and human rights violations.

They closed off all job possibilities for me and pursued a goal to leave me without any resources. Then I would disappear. Without a trace

When a victim appears at the bottom, it is much easier to claim the victim didn't live correctly, used drugs, or had a risky lifestyle.

Like the woman who was burnt alive in the underground train. This case is indicative. We might think that this is an isolated incident, but it's worth paying attention to the police officer. He walks by as if nothing unusual happened. We don't know how many such crimes remain off-camera. We only saw what witnesses managed to record and spread on social media. Not every crime receives publicity.

He didn't try to apply a fire extinguisher. He just passed by. I found comments on social media stating that she didn't behave correctly, that she should've rolled on the ground, and that she was just a drug addict didn't feel pain, hence nothing wrong happened.

Walmart, a company that should've given a good start to migrants and students, destroyed my life forever, without any doubt, to hide that they host criminals and assist slavery and exploitation.

The incident that happened to me shows how it's easy to dispose of anyone regradless their background, profession, lifestyle and finansial state.

I am still asking for help. I am looking for witnesses and video records. I also look for legal help.

Help me reclaim my life, please.