Devya’s Children Book 1: Ashlynn’s Dreams
Ashlynn’s Dreams is about a kid who gets kidnapped because she can shape people’s dreams. The scientists who create her have a task for her and they’ll use any means – and anyone – to gain her full cooperation. This book is a free kindle download (at least for the next few months).
Before she was kidnapped, Jillian Marie Antel Blairington was just an average bright, brave, headstrong child. She was excited for life in a new house with her Momma and new Daddy. Afterward, she’s all that … and so much more.
Held in a scientific facility, Jillian discovers her past-a family she never knew and a power she doesn’t understand. With her ability now activated, she can enter and even shape a person’s dreams. Jillian’s been kidnapped, and her Gift has been triggered, so she can locate and save Benjamin Connelly, a brother she never even knew she had. She’d better master this strange ability quickly, though, because her life isn’t the only one at stake. Her babysitter, Danielle Matheson, is being held as a hostage to ensure Jillian’s full cooperation. Slowly, Jillian begins to learn more about her captor and the other genetically altered children held at the facility.
Join Jillian as she tries to survive the training being forced upon her, find her unknown brother, escape with Danielle, and work her way back to a normal life once more.
Chapter 2 It's Good For Me
ITEM 11: Jillian’s first post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
I got two mommas and four daddies. I reckon I’m just gonna have to tell y’all the whole thing if it’s to make any sense at all. Nana says I should plan my words with great care so as not to cause trouble springing from trouble. I’ll try. Reckon I can’t go and make a promise on something I ain’t aiming to keep, but I guess trying will have to do.
Not sure what to write next. Nana says it ain’t nice to boast, but Momma, my real momma that is, says telling the story ought to do me good. I think she just wants to know the whole story herself. I haven’t told her everything yet ’cause she’d worry. Dr. S. said it would be cathartic, which basically means good for my soul. Dr. S. is always using big words, but I don’t mind, I’m special in more ways than one, thanks to Daddy Three. Individual words don’t give me problems, but Nana rarely says anything in a word. Usually, it’s a whole string of words with several meanings. It’s downright vexing if you ask me. That word I got from my sister, Nadia. I’ll get to her later.
I’ve got a whole lot more to say about Daddy Three, too, and not all of it nice, but right now, I wanna focus on the good doctor. Her full name is Dr. Stephanie Kamilia Soko-something-or-other, but Dr. S. is about all I can say properly. She meets with me every week just to talk for an hour. It’s real nice of her ’cause I’m pretty sure no one’s paying her, and she’s certainly the type of doctor people pay a whole heap to see all regular-like. Dr. S. says if I talk about what happened enough it’ll all make sense. She’s real patient, which is good ’cause
sometimes I’m kinda thick for a real smart kid.
Great ghastly goobers, I done lost my manners. Right now, this here journal thing is just for me, but eventually, somebody else might read it. Y’all are probably thinking I’m either crazy or “special.” I’m neither; I’m just Jillian Marie Antel Blairington. I’m twelve years old, and I’m gonna be a big sister soon. Fudge, I’m getting ahead of myself. I really did say fudge, not that word.
My Old Daddy, Daddy One, said I should only use the Big Bad Word if I want to really rile Momma. Easy for him to say, he ain’t living with Momma. Allison Michelle Blairington—that’s Momma—would whup my backside good if she ever heard bad words, especially that one, slip out. I keep that one bottled in tight.
Kinda wish I didn’t even know it as that’d be the best way to avoid using it. Never call Momma “Allie” neither, unless you do want to rile her. If that’s the case, you’re just crazy, and I probably ought not talk to you.
It all started with the move to the money sign state. Nope, before that, probably about the time the Old Daddy got hisself run clear off our property. Or maybe it started before that when he plowed too many fields for his own good. I don’t know the whole story, of course, ’cause it ain’t mine to tell, but the “blond and busty bimbo,” as Momma put it, might have something to do with that particular story. Momma didn’t tell me that, of course. She can’t picture me as anything but her sweet, innocent little baby, but I heard her crying on Nana’s shoulder one day.
I guess that’s about as good a starting place as any. Momma wouldn’t have none of my Old Daddy’s guff and games. She served him some papers and told him not to come back. He didn’t listen too good ’cause he wanted to see me. Momma didn’t like it, but she had to allow it ’cause the serious-faced judge said so. Come to think of it, the story probably truly begins before I was born, but Nana says to only speak about what I got good, solid ground to talk on.
Momma was a wreck on two skinny legs until she met Mr. Jeffrey Michael Blairington. That I know for a fact. Momma must have a thing for “J” names. My name is Jillian, my Old Daddy’s name is Jason, and my New Daddy’s name is Jeffrey. I just call him “New Daddy” or “Daddy Two” so I don’t confuse him with the Old Daddy or Daddy Three or Daddy Four. Well, maybe not so much Daddy Four. He don’t count much except for which of his genes ended up in me. He’s kinda grumpy, too, Daddy Four that is. I’m letting my lips run
before my good sense again though, so I’ll slow down.
I sure hope Momma stays hitched to this one. He’s definitely a keeper. He used to sell special chocolates and candies to stores and restaurants throughout the Southern states. That’s how he met Momma. After he married Momma though, he didn’t fancy traipsing all over God’s creation no more. Mr. Charlie Davis, that’s my New Daddy’s boss, said we should all come on up north and settle down, so that’s just what we did. Now my New Daddy manages the first of what Mr. Davis hopes will be a chain of stores called Charlie’s Chocolates.
That’s how we made it to the money sign state. They call it the Garden State sometimes, too, but that name just don’t fit right. For such a tiny state, this place sure does pack in the people. They can’t drive well neither. Everybody’s going too darn slow or trying to take the back bumper off.
On our very first day here, we got lost trying to find the house. I thought my New Daddy would break his teeth, grinding ’em so hard. I’m still not sure how I feel about the move. It’s exciting and scary all at once.
At first, I missed Nana and Jimmy, but since all the excitement, I did get to see ’em again. Still, there are days I could just cry for wanting to have Nana wrap her arms around me. Nana’s Nana, you know? I can’t remember a day of my life until the move that I didn’t see her. She raised me about as much as Momma did, maybe more so even ’cause Momma had to work an awful lot.
My Old Daddy had more odd jobs than a baboon has hair but none of ’em paid a halfway decent wage. He sure does love his secrets, my Old Daddy. All the time he spent in between jobs, he tried to drink rivers of sweet spirits, which just left the bills to Momma.
It’s kinda funny in a mighty sad, awful sort of way. If Momma had known what we know today and not cared one whit about me, she coulda sold me for a lot of money. Maybe not enough to set her up for life, but she coulda at least collected a couple of million dollars. I feel funny saying that ’cause I don’t want y’all to get the impression I view myself higher than I ought to. Caden Phillips probably came closest to summing things up, and he just said I was a freak. He was trying to be mean, but he was right. It’s gonna take many more chats with Dr. S. to come to grips with that without wanting to cry, but I’m getting there.
Chapter 3 Jillian
ITEM 12: Danielle’s first letter
Item Source: Danielle Matheson
Dear Dr. Sokolowski,
Thank you for your inquiry into my health. Physically, I’m fine. It’s the mental side of me that’s got my mom wearing her worrywart hat these days. In that regard, I’m doing as well as can be expected. I’m still dealing with everything, including the “loss” of coming off the speed so suddenly, but I just keep silently telling myself: It’s only psychological dependence. If I repeat that mantra enough, it tends to take away a bit of the edge, though I still have a long way to go. This would be an example of a bad day. On a good day, I hardly remember I ever had a minor drug problem.
Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about all that. Your letter inquired about my impressions of Jillian. She’s a good kid. I don’t know if I would have made it through that whole ordeal without her. She’s got a quick smile and a solid sense of herself. I feel bad for her though. No offense, but if anyone needs your services, she does.
I’ve been reading the paper a bit. There’s not much else to do around here anyway, except maybe study. I may yet be ready to take the SAT II’s on schedule next year, though every time I mention that to my mother she tears up.
Can’t say that I like the story being floated about Jillian, but I can appreciate the need to keep things spun a certain way for the public. Poor kid, she’d never know another day’s peace if the rest of this nosy world knew. I can hardly believe it myself and I was there
when that jerk explained it to her. Well, sort of there anyway. In the same facility has to count for something. Why do evil people get a kick out of hearing their own voices?
I’m torn on your proposal to share my version of the events. I’d say give me time to think, but I’ve got nothing but time now and you’ve been patient enough with me for these past three weeks. I’ll make you a deal, you share Jillian’s version of the events, and I’ll give you mine.
Ah, who am I kidding? Yes, I realize you’ll never take such a deal, so yes again. I’ll give you what I remember, but any and all profits should go into a fund for Jillian’s college.
Before you get all misty-eyed at that sentiment, I’ll tell you straight-out that kid deserves every good thing this life can offer. I’ve been a teacher’s assistant long enough in fifth grade classes to know that some of those little imps deserve a good smack upside the bumside, as my grandmother used to say. Not Jillian though. She’s from that other side; the side where right and wrong are very clearly defined. She owes that to her Nana I suppose. That’s not a knock against her mother; it’s just that the woman spent most of Jillian’s formative years working like crazy to feed the kid.
Ha, I guess she kind of wears off on you. I almost wrote kinda. You spend enough time in conversation with Jillian and she’ll have you talking with a Southern accent, drinking some berry flavored tea, and fighting the urge to dig up worms to go fishing.
Though you obviously don’t need a physical description, I think it’s worth mentioning her blue eyes. There’s something about the intelligence that lies behind those eyes that ought to have tipped off everyone that she’s more than she seems. Other than the eyes, she’s quite ordinary. A bit on the thin side perhaps, the type my grandmother used to say needs more meat on the bones.
I met the family about two months before all the craziness, through my job at the General Pharmacy; original name, huh? But like my dad once said, they didn’t hire me to critique their name. Jillian’s stepfather, Jeffrey Blairington, is the manager of the chocolate store right next to the pharmacy. He comes in from time to time for a cold drink or prenatal vitamins for his wife. We chatted a little on and off, and one day, he mentioned he needed a babysitter. The rest is history, as they say. The Blairingtons even attend our church now.
My hand hurts, so I’ll close this letter. I know I could type it, but if I do that, it’ll all come out too fast. I will tell you what I
remember in subsequent letters. I just can’t deal with too much of it at once.
P.S. Sorry for missing our first two meetings. If all goes well here, they might let me out for good behavior in another week or so. If you have any further questions regarding Jillian, please don’t hesitate to ask.