Ella`s Story
My Love From The Future
BOOK THREE

Chapter 1 : Daddy-Daughter Moment

Episode 23 : Nobember 1 2019 Friday 9th grade

Copyright © 2019-2025 Gary Brandt. All rights reserved.

The Danvers’ kitchen is a haven at 6 a.m., soft light filtering through gingham curtains, the air rich with sizzling bacon. Helana stands at the stove, brow furrowed in concentration, spatula in hand. Mr. Danvers, still in flannel pajamas, steps in, surprised. “Wow, you’re up early,” he says, pouring coffee. “Hey, Dad,” Helana says, smiling. “I’m practicing for home economics. I need all the help I can get.”

“Bacon and eggs?” he asks, eyeing the pan. “I thought you were vegetarian.” Helana sighs, flipping a strip of bacon. “It’s gross, right? Unborn chickens, dead pig parts. My mind screams no, but my body’s all yes. This domain’s urges are intense.” Mr. Danvers chuckles, sliding into a chair. “That’s the human struggle. I’ll join you in this decadence.”

Helana’s eyes soften. “I love you, Dad. I don’t know if I’ve said it, but it’s true. I love you so much.” “I love you too, Helana,” he says, his voice warm. “So much.” “For real?” she asks, hesitant. “You have Eileen, your daughter. Is there enough love for me?” He leans forward, earnest. “I love all four of you—Ella, Roxana, Eileen, you—with all my heart. That first day, when you were just a voice in my head, invisible, I *knew* you. I claimed you as my daughter because I felt it—no, I *knew*—you’ve always been mine. It was like a timeless place, past, present, future colliding. I love you, always have, always will.”

Tears well in Helana’s eyes. “That means everything. The longer I’m here, the more my old domain feels like a dream. I remember my parents there, but they’re fading, like acquaintances. I need you, Dad. So much.” “No more Mr. Danvers,” he says gently. “I’m Dad. I’ll always be your Dad, no matter what.” Helana rushes to him, hugging him tightly, tears streaming. The bacon pops in the pan, forgotten.

“What’s going on?” Ella asks, shuffling in, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Just a daddy-daughter moment,” Mr. Danvers says, smiling. “Cool,” Ella says, grabbing a cereal bowl. “Pass the milk, and save me a hug. Helana can’t hog them all. You’re my Dad too.” “I’m heading to early study hall,” Ella says, spooning cereal. “Got a test first period.” “Alone?” Mr. Danvers asks, frowning. “Wait!” Helana says. “I’ll get ready and come.” “Nah, keep your daddy-daughter time,” Ella says, grinning. “Those secret agents hear everything. I’m safe.”

Ella pedals her bike through the crisp November morning, the town still waking under a pale sky. Two young women, blonde and strikingly similar, join her on sleek bikes, their smiles too perfect. Ella skids to a halt, glaring. “Stop that!” she shouts. “It’s rude!” “Stop what?” one asks, her voice smooth. “Probing my mind,” Ella snaps. “I feel it. You don’t have permission.”

“We’re sorry,” the other says, unruffled. “We hoped you’d remember us. We’re your sisters, from before you came here. You’re a Star Seed from the Pleiades. We’re Pleiadian, like you. We’re here to guide you in your duties.” Ella scoffs. “Bullshit. I take astronomy. The Pleiades is too young for planets or people. So cut the crap and tell me what you are.”

“We’re human females, like you,” the first says. “From the Pleiades, in higher dimensions where life thrives beyond 3D forming planets.” Ella’s eyes narrow. “You’ve got an answer for everything, huh? I see pretty girls, but I feel something else—different energy. You’re lizard people, like that old TV show, hiding under fake skin. You’re not from the Pleiades. Crawl back to your hole, or I’ll have those guys with guns over there blast you to wherever you came from. Goodbye, and thanks for wasting my time.” She pedals off, heart racing. The women turn their bikes, gliding away silently.

Back in the kitchen, the plates are cleared, the bacon a fond memory. Helana wipes the counter, humming softly. “Breakfast was perfect,” Mr. Danvers says. “You’re a great cook.” “Thanks,” Helana says, smiling. “It’s simple, though. I’ll try something fancy for dinner.” “Can I pick your brain?” he asks, leaning on the counter. “Sure, but no aliens lately,” she laughs.

“I’m curious about you and Ella,” he says. “You’re nearly identical, like the same person. Could you be Ella’s reincarnation?” Helana shakes her head. “No. We’re pure—unique expressions of our parents’ DNA matrix, no past-life data mixed in. Our similarity started naturally, but when I arrived, Ella kept me close. We slept side by side for weeks, creating a co-resonance, an epigenetic adjustment. Our matrices aligned closer. We’re not identical, but close.”

“No past-life memories, then?” he asks. “We could access them,” Helana says, “but not as ours. All life data is in the records. Some tap into another’s past life, feeling it as their own. They didn’t live it, but the memories make it seem so.” “So past-life memories are borrowed?” he asks. “Not always,” she says. “Many here are reincarnated, but my people believe it’s wrong. The reincarnating spirit needs a near-perfect match with the infant’s matrix and an invitation. That’s rare. Often, spirits force their way in, poorly matched, leading to unhealthy lives. Worse, it violates the newborn’s sanctity—a unique spirit deserves a fresh experience. The reincarnating spirit’s baggage corrupts that purity.”

“Two spirits in one body?” he asks. “No,” she says. “They blend, becoming one with the body. The newborn’s spirit is forever altered, carrying the other’s scars. Some see the body as an empty vessel, but it’s not.” “What about Jesus?” he asks. “Wasn’t he an incarnated spirit?” “A special case,” Helana says. “A high-dimensional entity, like this galaxy’s overseer, requires a specially prepared body to hold that energy, arranged with the mother’s consent. That’s rare, only when such beings visit as one of us.”

“Is our planet corrupted by invading spirits?” he asks. “Most humans are pure,” she says. “You, me, the girls—we’re pure. Some reincarnations are invited, but many aren’t. And there’s a worse problem.” “Worse?” he asks, alarmed. “You love drama—books, movies, campfire tales,” she says. “You obsess over fictional characters, falling in love with them, fantasizing. That attention creates thought forms—spirit-like entities born from collective thought energy. They exist for drama, infecting minds to spark real-world chaos: family feuds, wars, suffering. They feed on the excitement, not the pain, thriving on fear or love alike.”

“How do we stop them?” he asks. “Raise your consciousness above drama,” she says. “Grow past it, like outgrowing cartoons. A purified mind starves them, and they dissipate.” “Am I infected?” he asks, half-joking. “You were,” Helana says, serious. “I chased them away with my love. Your consciousness is pure now, too high for them to return.” He blinks, touched. “Thank you, Helana. I’m realizing how special you are, what a gift. I’m blessed to love you.” “Stop!” she says, tearing up, hugging him. “You’re making me cry.”

Ella strides across the schoolyard, her backpack heavy with books, when Commander Beaker approaches in his crisp Navy uniform. Kids nearby snicker, whispering. “Ugh, Beaker,” Ella says, rolling her eyes. “Your uniform’s embarrassing. Kids make fun of us.” “Sorry,” he says, unfazed. “I need to file a contact report. My team says you met alien beings this morning. True? You must report these encounters.”

“I don’t know what they were,” Ella says, crossing her arms. “They claimed we’re Pleiadian, Star Seeds with duties. Looked human, but felt creepy—like lizard people from that TV show, hiding under fake skin.” “If they were reptilian,” Beaker says, lowering his voice, “don’t be so aggressive, threatening to have them shot. Reptilians are powerful, as likely to kill and eat you as befriend you. Be careful.” “You mean be afraid,” Ella snaps. “No way. I’m too busy for that. We need weapons training. If they show up again, I’ll shoot them myself. How’s that for aggressive? Fear feeds them, makes them stronger.”

“Who said fear feeds them?” Beaker asks, surprised. “Dunno,” Ella says. “It just came to me. Helana’s teaching us to pull info from ‘the record.’ Maybe there.” “I commend your fearlessness,” Beaker says, “but I’m worried. Some entities are dangerous. Don’t shoot them—please.”

Ella flops onto Helana’s bed, the room aglow with fairy lights. Helana sits cross-legged, sketching in a notebook. “You weren’t in school,” Ella says. “Sick? Or did you play hooky?” “Hooky?” Helana giggles. “Funny word. What’s it mean?” “Skipping school without permission,” Ella says, mock-stern. “Then I guess I did,” Helana says, laughing. “Not funny, Helana,” Ella says. “You’re a straight-A student. Don’t jeopardize that. You okay?”

“Not sick,” Helana says. “I talked with Dad a long time this morning. Needed alone time to meditate, sort my thoughts. This domain’s still hard, and I’m worried about my future here.” “Fair,” Ella says. “Get a mental health note from the nurse tomorrow, so it’s not unexcused.” “Got it,” Helana says. “What’s Pleiadian?”

Ella sits up. “A star cluster. Some girls biked up today, said they’re Pleiadian, and I am too—a Star Seed with duties. Know anything about that?” “Never heard of it,” Helana says. “If it’s young now, it might not exist in my time. Young clusters scatter stars. You’re no Star Seed—that sounds like reincarnation. If so, I hope they got Earth’s spirit’s permission. Dad and I talked about that. You’re a pure, unique spirit, not reincarnated. Sounds like a trick.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Ella says. “Pretty blondes, but they felt like lizard people. Super creepy.” “Don’t worry,” Helana says, grinning. “They don’t know who they’re messing with, trying to trick my Ella.” They laugh, the tension easing. “I’m beat,” Ella says. “Gonna write in my diary and crash. Night, Helana. Sweet dreams.”

“Can I read your diary someday?” Helana asks. “Nope,” Ella says, smirking. “Private forever.” “Fine,” Helana says, yawning. “I’ll get my own. Sounds fun.”

Ella sits at her desk, the house quiet, Helana’s soft snores drifting from the next room. She opens her diary, her day’s strangeness spilling onto the page.

Check Out Our Ads. If you buy a product by clicking one of the images we may receive a small (very small) commission on the sale.

     Eileen`s Fashion Pick
TANIA-Ruffle-Neck-Tier-Dress-[Green-Zebra]
$68.00
Click The Image

     Eileen`s Fashion Pick
RAILS-Brielle-Top-White-[M]
$188.00
Click The Image

NEXT >> Chapter 24
Forbidden Doctrine

Four teenage girls—Ella, Helana, Eileen, and Roxana—experience a shared dream where they're confronted by a Galactic Council that threatens to kill Helana for spreading `forbidden doctrine` about non-evolution, but they escape when Roxana identifies the beings as demons and invokes Jesus's name. Under secret government observation due to their extraordinary mental abilities, the girls bond over their spiritual beliefs and plan to resist the otherworldly entities while navigating high school life and a monitoring program that wants to increase their social interactions.

<< PREVIOUS Chapter 22
22

Four teenage girls meet with one of their fathers at a restaurant, where Helana—a time traveler from 500 million years in the future—reveals that a mid-century global conflict will nearly wipe out 95% of life on Earth, but her three friends will become key figures in humanity's resistance and eventual rebuilding. Later that night, as the girls have a sleepover, Helana confides her fears about forgetting her origins and not knowing her role in the changed timeline, while Ella encourages her to focus on living day by day rather than worrying about predetermined futures.

FIRST Chapter 0 Sleep Over

Thirteen-year-old Ella and her best friends Eileen and Roxana encounter an interdimensional being named Helana during a sleepover, who appears as different benevolent figures to each girl and reveals glimpses of their legendary futures. When Helana tries to leave after accidentally revealing herself and disrupting their timelines, Ella cleverly traps the entity by claiming authority over her domain, forcing Helana to stay as their `genie in a bottle` despite her pleas to return home.