My parents drove to Las Vegas to see me. My mother brought me a hot pot and a bunch of instant ramen noodle packages. I was not feeling well, before or during their visit.
Before they came, I was thinking about moving to somewhere else. Maybe my government would stop bothering me if I left Las Vegas. I wanted to move to some place in California or Nevada, perhaps Modesto, or Redding, or Merced, or Mesquite, or Barstow. Major earthquakes were less likely in those places (at least according to the information I found online). I did not want to move to a place where earthquakes were likely (for example, where my brother or my parents live).
But when my parents came, we did not discuss that. Nor did we discuss what was happening to me. We didn’t do much, but we did switch my cell phone provider from Verizon to T-Mobile so I could get their Pay As You Go service plan which was cheaper. At this point, I was still hoping that someone would tell the public the truth so I wouldn’t have to do much of anything. I was still hoping that my government would stop abusing me. When my parents arrived, I saw that one of my neighbors appeared to be moved out. Perhaps they were responsible for what was happening to me and with their departure, things would get better. Boy was I going to be disappointed.