Top of my class at Quantico 1989. Detective Seabolt (FEMALE, NO CRIMINAL RECORDS, NO ADDICTIONS, NO HELP). I wrote my name and birthday on the black board. Tara Lea Seabolt (at the time), July 10, 1974. Don't you dare tell me you didn't know how old I was.

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All male classmates with the exception of who I thought was a female roommate. The roommate told me that she refused to stay in the dorm room with me because she was insulted to have to room with a teenager. Like I was supposed to give a shit.

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Drugged, assaulted, ridiculed, called a man. I can only presume because I was smarter, did better than them in class, and was better at my job. Then began the quest to make me partner with a male. Who always took credit for my work. And the FBI refused to pay me and wouldn't say why. But if you thought I was too young to work with the FBI, why did you approve me for Quantico?

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Things were stolen from my desk (tea, office supplies, sugar...). I was continually called the secretary. Then it was sexitary. I didn't have to go into the office very often and desperately needed to be emancipated, so I continued working hoping to be paid soon.

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However, when the male chauvinist pigs and their wives/whores/partners followed me to Nevada, leaked the location of the kidnapped victim I was searching for, and caused her death, I resigned. That was over thirty years ago and you a holes are still harassing me.

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Maybe you should seek counseling, therapy, or something similar. I in no way agreed to do anything with or for you. You held me hostage for three days in the New Orleans, Louisiana FBI building. I will not help you with anything. Leave me and my children alone.

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My children are missing, my reproductive eggs were stolen and implanted in unknown people, my car was stolen along with all of my belongings, my bank debit card was invalid user coded, my identity stolen, a CD I intended to release as a solo artist was stolen from a bank safety deposit box, and the "Whore house" didn't even honor the contract you forced me to create.

 

The answer is now and forever will be a big fat NO. Just as always. I would rather die than bow, bend, break, settle with, or help you. I plan on seeing you all in hell, presuming God allows me to visit.