Ella`s Story
My Love From The Future
BOOK THREE

Chapter 4 : Innocence Lost and Found

Episode 26 : December 2 2019 Monday 9th grade

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

The school courtyard buzzes with lunchtime chatter, but Roxana’s voice cuts through, sharp and furious.

She waves a crumpled letter at Melanie Crenshaw, her eyes blazing. “Crenshaw, what the hell is this?” Roxana demands. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” Melanie asks, her tone soothing.

“How can I help?” “A stupid letter from one of those boys in weapons training,” Roxana says.

“Did you give him my address?” “No, never,” Melanie says, shaking her head.

“He must’ve peeked at my notebook when I wasn’t looking.” “Bullshit,” Roxana snaps.

“I know your matchmaking game.

Stop it.

Tell that prick if he looks at me again, I’ll hurt him.” “Is it inappropriate?” Melanie asks.

“Can I see it?” Roxana thrusts the letter at her.

Melanie scans it, her expression softening.

“This is sweet, Roxana.

He says you’re a nice girl, he’d like to know you someday, and you’re unbelievably beautiful.

You *are* beautiful, in ways that’ll draw many letters like this.

Keep it in a keepsake box with the others you’ll get.

I’ll tell the boys you’re not interested and to leave you alone.

Please, don’t hurt them—they’re good kids.” Outside, under a gray May sky, Roxana and Eileen linger by the courtyard’s oak tree, the air cool with the weight of spring 2025. “You shouldn’t talk to Melanie like that,” Eileen says.

“She’s, like, 95.” “She’s 63,” Roxana corrects, rolling her eyes.

“I heard her say it.” “Still old as hell,” Eileen says.

“She might keel over if you’re too mean.” “I wasn’t mean, just firm,” Roxana says.

“They had no right bringing boys to our class.

It should be just us.” “Helana got a flower, you got a letter, and I got nothing,” Eileen says, pouting.

“Am I ugly?” “You’re gorgeous,” Roxana says.

“We all are.

This boy nonsense is just starting.

I hate it.” “I like boys around,” Eileen says.

“We have them at school.

More boys, better choices when we date.

Don’t be scared.” “Not scared,” Roxana says.

“Frustrated.

I’m tired of blocking their thoughts.

It’s all one-track.” Eileen laughs.

“One day, you and a boy will share that track, honey.” “God, if that happens, shoot me,” Roxana says. “I’ll be thrilled for you,” Eileen says.

“And you’ll spill every detail.” Ella jogs up, backpack bouncing.

“Ready, guys? Rifle training today.

Should be fun.” “You’ve got Thumper,” Roxana teases.

“Leave Bambi alone.” --- ### Confrontation Commander Beaker’s office is sterile, its air thick with tension.

The girls—Ella, Helana, Eileen, Roxana—sit in a tight row, their faces set.

Beaker paces, his voice low. “Thank you for coming,” he says.

“This is the worst part—sharing data with other departments.

We’ll share as little as possible.

Air Force officers are visiting.

They know almost nothing about you, nothing about Helana.

Be smart, high-achieving high school girls, excelling in our program.

Don’t reveal more.” The door opens, admitting three officers in crisp uniforms.

Beaker forces a smile.

“Good morning, girls.

Meet Captain John Davis, First Lieutenant Walter Miller, and First Lieutenant Margaret Wilson.

They’ve heard of your success and want to ask questions.

It’s informal—you don’t have to answer anything uncomfortable.” Ella’s thoughts hum telepathically.

*Play dumb like good little girls, or handle these fools?* Helana responds, *I’ve read them.

Beaker doesn’t know who they are.

Expose them.* *No dumb act,* Eileen thinks.

*That’d be dumb.* Captain Davis steps forward, his smile practiced.

“We’re thrilled to meet you.

Your success in Ohio—finding those abducted kids—your high school grades, and this Navy program impress us.

The Air Force wants bright youngsters like you for future careers.

May we ask questions?” “Commander, can we speak freely?” Ella asks.

“There’s more here than interest in our success, and you know only a fraction.” “It’s informal,” Beaker says cautiously.

“But be polite.” Helana fixes Davis with a stare.

“What’s the Air Force National Air and Space Intelligence Center, and why’s an intelligence service interested in four high school girls?” Davis blinks.

“It handles threat assessment—cyberattacks, satellite threats.

We see you as potential Air Force assets post-college.

This is recruitment.

The Navy wants you, but so do we.” “That’s not true, is it?” Eileen says.

“You followed us in the woods last weekend.

Beaker’s agents were there, so he knows.

This isn’t recruitment—it’s a threat assessment.

You think we’re a national security risk.” “Absolutely not,” Davis says, flustered.

“The profile’s a formality.” “Bullshit,” Ella says.

“Before you came, you thought, ‘Those arrogant little bitches need a lesson.’ How were you planning to teach us?” “That’s absurd,” Davis says, red-faced.

“I’m shocked you’d think that.” “Think?” Roxana says.

“Right now, Miller’s fantasizing about teaching us a lesson—beating and raping us.

He’s thrilled about the rape part.” “This is out of control,” Davis says.

“Meeting’s over.” “Not until we say,” Eileen says.

“Try to leave—you can’t move.

You knew we’re psychic, so don’t act surprised.” “We’ll wrap up soon,” Roxana says.

“How does Wilson feel about your rape-as-a-weapon thoughts? Oh, she knows.

With no respect, sir, we’re not the threat—you are.

Note that in your profile.” Helana adds, “Don’t spy on us.

It won’t work, and you’ll get hurt.

Our angelic protectors in the woods proved that.

Abduction attempts will fail.” “We respect the Air Force,” Ella says, “but your rogue group is dangerous.

Keep harassing us, and we’ll tell the Navy everything.

You’ll be fired—or worse.

Leave, and don’t come back.” The officers flee, visibly shaken.

Margaret Wilson glances back at Roxana, her eyes haunted, as if seeing a ghost. “What just happened?” Melanie asks, stunned. Beaker slumps, head in hands.

“Our girls declared war on the Air Force.

We know they’re empaths, but freezing people? That’s new.

This’ll terrify the military, especially rogue groups we just exposed.

Girls, do you realize what you’ve done?” “Sir,” Roxana says, “forget us.

We must save that girl.” “Who?” Beaker asks. “Margaret Wilson,” Roxana says, tearing up.

“Her memories are jumbled, boxed up.

Some hold abuse starting at 14—our age—in a fake ROTC program.

She’s stuck there, a mindless robot.

I dumped those boxes.

She’ll remember everything, and they’ll kill her if they know.

They planned the same for us.

We can’t let her die.

There are others like her.” “She’s a casualty in this war you started,” Beaker says.

“I’m focused on saving you.” “I agree with Roxana,” Melanie says.

“I can deprogram her, save her mind and body.

Beaker, you’re a soldier—man up.

Your agents are trained.

Let’s act before they leave.” Eileen raises a hand.

“One more thing.

Those Ohio kids? Davis thought ‘our operation in Ohio.’ They’re behind it.

They’re not Air Force—they’re evil, using it as a cover.” “You’re right,” Beaker says.

“Melanie, take the girls.

I’ll join the agents in the van.” In a hotel room, Margaret lies unresponsive, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

A nurse prepares a syringe.

Suddenly, Margaret blinks rapidly, sits up, and moves toward the door.

The nurse stumbles, falling.

An agent guides Margaret to a van.

Davis and Miller watch, frozen in terror.

As Margaret passes, she stops.

“Forget today.

Your lives depend on it.

Margaret’s one of us now.

Forget her.” --- ### Too Much, Too Soon Judy Danvers’ living room is warm, but her voice is sharp.

“Thanks for coming, Melanie.

Helana’s been crying in bed since she got home.

What did you do to my daughter?” “An incident at the hotel,” Melanie says.

“A man was beating a woman.

Helana, brave as she is, intervened, thinking the woman was in mortal danger.” “Was she hurt?” Judy asks, furious. “An agent stopped it before physical harm,” Melanie says.

“But emotionally, she’s wounded.

She’s strong but still a child, unexposed to such violence.

I’ll adjust her memories to feel like a movie she shouldn’t have seen, easing processing and reducing PTSD risk.” “This is her second time risking her life,” Judy says.

“Tell her dying won’t help anyone.

Is the man in custody?” “He is, but they’re Air Force,” Melanie says.

“The military’s handling it.” “Convenient,” Judy says, scowling.

“I’m investigating.

There better be a trail.” In Helana’s room, fairy lights cast a soft glow.

Ella, Eileen, and Roxana sit close, their presence a shield.

Helana clutches a pillow, eyes red. “Can the girls leave so we can talk privately?” Melanie asks. “No,” Helana says, voice trembling.

“I need them.

They’re part of me.” “They can stay,” Melanie says.

“Helana, what’s hurting you? Share with us.” “There was a nurse with a needle,” Helana says, tears falling.

“I thought they’d kill her.

I couldn’t just blend with her motor functions to walk her out—I blended fully.

I saw everything, felt it all.

The beatings, the rapes, the slavery.

They beat her, they beat me.

They raped her, they raped me.

It all happened to me.” “Oh, Helana,” Melanie says, voice breaking.

“I love you.

Promise you’ll never do this again.

You’re not Supergirl—bullets don’t bounce off you.

You’ve suffered a psychological assault that could scar you forever.

I’ll try to reverse it, but some pain may linger.

You should be dreaming of love, not grappling with this.” “Us too,” Ella says. “What?” Melanie asks, horrified. “We didn’t want Helana alone,” Ella says.

“We’re sisters.

We blended with her, saw it all, felt it all.

We’re one.

She won’t face this alone.” Melanie pales.

“You’ve sacrificed your innocence—priceless beyond measure.

I’m sick.

This is too much, too soon.

We’ll include Margaret and process as a group.” --- ### Panic Attack In Beaker’s office, the air is heavy with dread.

He slumps, hands shaking, as Melanie sits across, her tablet dark. “I need your help, professionally,” Beaker says.

“I can’t focus, can’t eat, can’t sleep.

Small sounds scare me.

The girls are running my command.

I’m losing it.” “Panic attacks,” Melanie says.

“Not a disorder—your fear’s justified.

We’ve provoked a rogue group, autonomous and misogynistic, viewing women as animals to exploit and discard.

Their psychopathy is extreme.” “Why bring Wilson?” Beaker asks. “To make the girls comfortable,” Melanie says. “How do these groups exist?” Beaker shouts.

“Where’s Command?” “Since Vietnam, autonomous units operate outside chains of command,” Melanie says.

“Police have them too.

They’re effective, and Command’s ignorance offers deniability.

Psychopaths are drawn to these roles, corrupting units over time.” “Are we in danger?” Beaker asks. “Yes,” Melanie says.

“If it was just us, we’d be dead.

Exposure in a crowd forces their caution.

The girls are safest.” “Because of weapons training?” Beaker asks.

“Should they carry guns?” “Not guns,” Melanie says.

“They *are* weapons.

They froze muscles—imagine stopping a heart or bursting a vessel.

As a collective, they’d kill instinctively if threatened.” “Who knows?” Beaker asks. “Just us,” Melanie says.

“If Command learns, they’ll want them euthanized, like Margaret.

I can’t bear that.” “They’d kill me for thinking it?” Beaker asks. “Regretfully, yes,” Melanie says.

“It’d be instinctive.

But with training, they’ll keep their powers safe, like a holstered gun.” “Include it in weapons training?” Beaker asks.

“Practice on mice?” “We must teach control,” Melanie says.

“No rabbits—Roxana loves them, and Ella and Eileen eat them.

That’d spark conflict in their collective.” --- Ella’s bedroom is a sanctuary, the world muted beyond its walls on this May 29, 2025, evening at 11:38 AM MST.

Helana’s breathing steadies nearby as Ella opens her diary, her heart raw.

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NEXT >> Chapter 27
Super Soldiers

In a May 2025 meeting, Commander Beaker and psychologist Melanie Crenshaw discuss five psychically gifted teenage girls who refuse military weaponization of their abilities and have rescued a brainwashed Navy officer named Margaret through a dangerous mental link that cost them their innocence. When the girls demand fair compensation and threaten to quit the program, Beaker faces losing his career unless he resorts to using their psychic skills to blackmail his superiors for funding.

<< PREVIOUS Chapter 25
25

A group of teenage girls undergo police firearms training led by Eileen's mother, where two of them demonstrate unexplained psychokinetic abilities that allow them to achieve impossibly accurate shooting clusters. During a family camping trip, the girls encounter a mysterious hermit named Ezekiel who warns them about dangerous entities and joins them for dinner, revealing himself to be more than he appears when he vanishes into the woods afterward.

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.