Auctioned in Silences –

Auctioned in Silences –

Covered in Shadows: A Survivor’s Call

by, Samantha Syrnich TLC

Covered in county, state, and federal shadows,
where I am hunted still—
by the 1%-ers of this world
who run everything on earth still,
including these corporations.
That’s what these governments really are, after all.

Even as some still stand against the dark forces,
attempting to right wrongs for others,
to dismantle the corruption,
risking lives and dying for truths,
I still stand.
Not as I once stood for them,
but as I never quit standing,
and will keep standing
until my breath is gone one final time.

I have been killed and watched to die from front-row seats,
in front of them,
caused by corruption.
Silencing me attempted every way humanly possible:
with gags,
threats,
hit after hit until I lost count.

Where are the protectors that I protected?
What are they doing?
They all know.
My ex-colleagues of all inter-agency affiliations federally?
Where are they?
Why can’t I trust a single LEO left in my location?

I still stand up.
I’ve stood for them.
I protected them.

Why is there a truck in this county put on display
with the words etched onto it: “Protect Your Protectors”?
An honest myth if you ask me.
For the protectors I stood for
have only hurt me in my location,
where I have been stripped of home,
family,
and children—
destroyed purposefully.

How much laundered profit have I been worth here so far?
Exploit much? (Sarcasm.)

⸻

I turned down exposing them all on 20/20,
for protection of them
and for national security concerns I carried then,
as well as fears for my own life
and the lives of my children
while being terrorized.

I stood up.
I could have gone public and shown the truths I held.
Nine years before they went on 20/20 to do this.
That is now fifteen (15) long, hard years ago.

They went on 20/20 for a re-election campaign—
using my friend’s family’s decades-old pain
for their personal advancement,
on national TV.
Re-opening wounds that family never wanted reopened,
making their raw grief painfully extreme.
Even going so far as to use them as props,
to suit their agenda,
to be seen as “heroic.”

These were no heroes to me.

And while they went on 20/20,
using a decades-old murder from that same year for a re-election campaign,
I was puking up my guts.
I was still alive.
I recalled that year vividly.
That was the year Mandy died.
And that was the same year my hunt began.

I was the one left alive.
Alive, but hunted.
Alive, but unseen.
Alive, while carrying truths heavier than any child should bear.

It is easier to die than to live with crimes
of such natures of man—
and women too.
Yet I have lived.
And I testify.

⸻

They took everything from me.
In every way possible.
Not only my safety, my family, my home—
but my finances too.

Even as I served voluntarily,
protecting my neighbors,
driving their own border agent home safely
when he struggled with off-duty alcoholism—
I still stood.
But I didn’t stop there.
I cleaned his home for him.
I washed his clothing so he could be ready for work.
I made certain he was okay,
ready to stand his post,
to fulfill his oath.

He is now retired,
living on a hefty retirement,
doing just fine.
But I will continue to protect his name
by omitting it from my testimonies.

He taught me the ways of training working dogs,
the kind I had dreamed of advancing to have for my own.
And yet, that too was stripped from me.

After I won the lawsuit,
I walked away without a dime in damages.
Customs and Border Protection had already fully accepted me.
I was scheduled to depart to Georgia for training.
And then—
in retaliation—
that was taken away too.

Every single DHS agency underwent retraining.
New rules were written into their SOPs.
A few were fired.
Many were protected.
Both inside those DHS walls and far beyond them.

And all of it was because of what I did.
Because I refused silence.
Because I refused to betray the truth.

⸻

And who are “they”?

“They” are the corporations,
the sinister individuals with awful agendas,
the courts of law and judges,
the politicians,
the LEOs,
and members of this very community—
both in and outside of law enforcement,
both in and outside of first responder circles—
who joined forces with corruption
instead of standing against it.

“They” are the churchgoers who knew,
but stood idly by.
“They” are the neighbors who chose gossip,
slander,
and committed defamation of my character.
“They” are the ones who mocked me to my face,
who made a joke of my survival.

“They” are the school board,
the school teachers,
the school coaches—
who knew but did nothing.
Instead, they banned me from the school
as if I were the predator,
when in truth I was the one enduring this life-long ordeal.
In doing so, they committed even greater crimes
against both myself and my children.

“They” are those who denied my daughter
her rightful high school education.
“They” are those who, instead of helping us,
harmed us even further—
using ACE scores born of their failures
against my own offspring,
weaponizing trauma that was never theirs to exploit.

They placed my children in jail whenever they could,
for anything they could—
including just this past weekend,
for a non-crime—
admitted as such,
and yet they held her for four harmful days
before letting her go.

“They” are those who committed RICO-level crimes unchecked.
I documented it.
I turned in the papers,
the proof,
the active crimes at hand.
I submitted reports of what was being done—
before my grandson’s delivery.

And what was their response?
They mocked me.
They laughed at me.
They labeled me “delusional.”

But if I were truly delusional,
how could I have drafted and submitted
a full RICO-level crime report?
How could I have written the truth
they are still trying to bury?

“They” are those who forced my own child
to give birth in a homeless camp,
and then—
as fast as humanly possible—
covered up the crime scene.
They erased it by plowing down the land,
turning it over for sale
to bury the evidence of their neglect and their cruelty.

They were told of the situation at hand
on numerous occasions.
They were begged for help.
And still—
they chose silence,
they chose profit,
they chose betrayal.

All of this came prior to my grandson’s miracle birth and life.
And now,
“They” are those with greedy eyes fixed upon him—
for in their trafficking world,
they see the worth they put on rare beauty:
his skin tone,
his big blue eyes.
“They” are those who would measure him in profit,
not in humanity.

“They” are those who threw me into one hospital
through assaults upon my life,
my body,
and my organs—
again—
to attempt killing me all over again.

Physical assault.
Medical assault.
Medical malpractice.
Medical negligence.

The very same hospital
that paid out for what they did to my own brother—
because of who I am,
because of my identity,
to hurt me through him.
They paid for it posthumously,
after his death.

And standing with them:
a so-called public defender,
whose crimes were visible like a glaring sore thumb to me.
And a judge,
who attempted to strip away my firearm rights—
to leave me with no defense,
no protection at all,
against they themselves,
a true mafia.

⸻

Here is my testimony:

They took my service dog—
my white Borzoi, Blossom of Snow,
my Edelweiss—
my federally protected service companion.
She is not a pet.
She is my right arm,
my protection,
my lifeline.

She was trained to perform pressure therapy,
to ground me through PTSD,
to save my life in the midst of trauma
caused by all of this.

Yet they tore her from me.
A violation under Title II and III of the ADA,
Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act,
and protections for service animals.

Penalties for this cruelty can reach $75,000 per offense
for a first violation,
and $150,000 for each subsequent violation.
These penalties attach per entity,
per violation.
And still—no justice.

⸻

LAWFUL DECLARATION

🔥 By the highest law of Creation—DO NO HARM—
by God’s law first,
by the Constitution, the Bill of Rights,
the Federalist Papers,
the Declaration of Independence,
and every Founder’s document that breathes liberty,

🔥 By every amendment securing freedom of speech,
freedom of conscience,
freedom of life itself,

🔥 By every statute, code, and RCW—
even those ignored and trampled upon by men in power,

I hereby declare:

These words are mine.
They are my intellectual property, my testimony, my truth.
They may not be altered, stolen, silenced, or reproduced
without my express written consent.

I claim my rights.
I claim my voice.
I claim the protection denied to me for decades.
And I will continue to speak—
until the breath is stolen from my body for the last time.

⸻

I stand for my United States Flag to this very day.
Are you going to stand up with me, or against me?

I stand for veterans.
I stand for children.
I stand for grandchildren.
I stand for future generations beyond my life.

I stand for a true legacy,
because my own has already been stolen.
And I will stand until I take it back.
I am not going to ever stop standing.

Veterans have suffered and given their lives
to protect this nation from predations—
the same predations committed against my life.
To secure that freedom,
that right to life and liberty,
they shed blood.
And yet I stand alone.
All alone.

Still—
I stand.
I raise the American Flag.
I respect it to this very day for what it stands for.

And I have no choices left but one:
to go public with my scarred, damaged body and all—
or fade away.
And fading away is not my option chosen.

For my story, my truth, and my testimony
are already around this world.
You cannot kill my voice any longer.

I stand waiting now, for those who caused this all—
to me and to my own—

⚡ TO STAND THEIR ASSES UP. ⚡

⸻

Artist & Author: Samantha Syrnich TLC
© 2025.

I’M STILL HERE
WaRn ToRn
[https://youtu.be/rCQ4gIo8an8?si=mY6He57bzS3otcWB]