Adventures of the B Plane Girl: Child of Vision, Part I

By Angel-Rose Sandoval

I was just a teenager when a female ghost( Fern) began haunting me in my dreams around the time of my grandfather's death (Papa Joe).  I soon realized these "dreams" were actually out-of body experiences!  After discovering parallel universes exist, I also learned I was reincarnated. I heard alot of death tales from those who've passed, experienced a lot of adventure one could say in the genre of otherworldly, but when the nightmares came, I started to question...  "I haven't seen him. Where is my Papa Joe?  Why was I sent back?"

At the same time, I would find out about a lurking secret admirer who would change my destiny... affecting my reincarnation mission.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angel-Rose Sandoval
• Release date: Jul 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9780983162223

Book preview

a novel by

Angel-Rose Sandoval

Prologue

(At Present)

On the Etheric Plane:

Year 189, Millennium 4 B.B.P. (Beyond the B Plane)

In the underground, I am transparent in my form; moving quietly down the long, dark and narrow hallway of a structure. I hear voice tones and pick up EMF waves on my receiver. It becomes stronger as I move closer. After thoroughly checking the space of one small bathroom and two bedrooms that are currently conjoined to a small, old shack,  I turn the corner and find myself in a living room;  there’s a  television on with low sound emitting.

The screen is split: the top half exposes a running feature film, showing a scene with a bunch of school kids in a classroom. The bottom half reveals a search box showing the title of the feature and date of its release. The film is entitled: The Deviant Mind Child, dated back: 05.02.21.04; its day, followed by its month, then its year, and finally: its millennium. It's as if someone searched what was currently showing that moment, then left once they suspected someone might have been coming for them.

I cover the area with all devices synced; searching & scanning the structure with scrutiny, such as its walls, floors and ceilings for clues, hidden objects, anything that's questionable and any soul that may be around; hiding. My transformer picks up no living entity signal other than my partner's. I can see he is close through my Vise P. Chip: an ocular scope lens which  is implanted within the outer rim of my iris. Its operation is executed by thought within milliseconds and can allow the user to see through multiple dimensions one currently exists in.

Suddenly, I hear a familiar tone. It's the voice of a girl I once knew... very well. Part of my peripheral sight catches the split-screen. This moving scene shows two little girls on a school bus as they're on their way home. Playing the role of the deviant, she is planning on sabotaging a fellow student's birthday party.  Although she didn't look much  like herself, the search box confirms it is in fact her. The name: Jolene Pierce.

I can't get distracted as we are on the hunt for Mathew Lowen; a  male entity that was discovered among a group of seven other entities on a recent S.T.T.(silent traffic trail) bust. Out of the seven, four were formerly chipped, first-offense, human traffickers and were sentenced to immediate death for their second violation. The other two first offenders were nano chipped with a Mesh Trinity into their dorsal root ganglion (the spine). This chip is used for entity tracking, endocrine disruption, and killing of entities by subatomic implosion. If the Mesh Trinity is tampered with or torn, it will kill the entity.

Lastly, Mathew remains. Now it's time, as his involvement in human trafficking revealed to us, he is a pedophile.  His main target are children; the younger, the better and the more unaware; such as the dreamers of the third dimensional B Plane, the easier. We finally found his mainstay after two days of trailing his every move.  But no matter what, seeing her on that screen put me in a place where seconds of time were unmeasurable; recalling her whole life's story. It was a notorious one, everyone on the etheric plane would eventually hear about her sometime in their life and for generations to come...

Child of Vision

First Publication, 2016

by Angel-Rose Sandoval

12420 E. Kachina Pl. #239

Dewey, AZ 86327

Adventures of the B Plane Girl: Child of Vision, Pt I © 2016 by Angel-Rose Sandoval. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever, including internet use, electronic, print copy, recording, manuscript, or information storage systems without permission in writing from the author.

ISBN: 978-0-9831622-4-7  (Bowker)

Cover photography and book interior by Angel-Rose Sandoval.  Model featured: Delilah Esparza.

In dedication to those who suffer; the sleep-deprived and those who experience unwelcoming/pestering, supernatural phenomena. 

Contents   

Prologue  i-iv

Chapter 1  The Awakening

P. 9

Chapter 2  The Dreamer's Secret Admirer

P. 39

Chapter 3  Not Myself

P. 72

Chapter 4  Last Chance

P. 85

Chapter 5  A Trail of My Tears

P. 108

Chapter 6  Things Were Looking Up

P. 134

Chapter 7  The Day I Died

P. 161

Child of Vision, Part I

1

The Awakening

On the B Plane

Long ago in the material world... as a bit of family history goes, I was told my great grandparents were Italian Jews that survived the Holocaust during WWII. They managed to escape to the States in 1938; shortly after The Great Hurricane. They settled in the Upper East Side of Queens, New York and took on the English surname, Pierce.  According to my dad, it made their life a lot easier. My grandfather, Joseph Pierce (Papa Joe) was born on May 16, 1942.

Papa Joe followed in his father's footsteps working a construction job; downtown and eventually became a project supervisor within several years. He met my Sicilian grandmother, Loretta Graziano in the ER one afternoon when he accidentally pulled his arm out of socket.  She was a nurse and he needed a lot of her aide for such a minor issue. I heard it was love at first sight though. It was a little over four years later when she would be home raising their two children: my father, David and my aunt, Josephine; who was older by almost  three years.

My Puerto-Rican mother, Clara was an only child born to a single mother named Gina Torres. She was a full-time housekeeper for a well-to-do family in  Manhattan's Upper West Side. My mother never knew her father as he left before she was born.

As the story went, Mom and Dad met at a mutual friend's wedding sometime in 1985. They would soon fall in love and have me incubating in the womb out of wedlock.  They were married the following year, 1986. She took his name and ever since, Mom was known as Mrs. Claire Mariel Pierce. I was born that year on November 7 and named somewhat closely after my grandfather, Jolene Pierce.

In 1990, we moved out of NYC and into California, settling in Los Angeles. Dad picked up a great job with his friend's property management company, while Mom became intrigued with a new hobby: antiquing. She loved the auction houses and when more money came in, she'd fill up the house with all sorts of time pieces. Finally, she realized it was more than just a hobby.  A couple of years later, she made a living out of it by partnering up with her friend, Natalie Hodge, who knew the business well.

By then, Mom and Dad bought the house we were renting. They loved the historic, 1909 built bungalow and the area so much, they convinced the landlord to sell by giving him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

That next year around the time I turned five, my parents put me in ballet lessons. Mom loved the idea of me dancing as I had a habit of standing on my tip-toes.

It was 1993 when my grandparents finally made it down to California; formerly living in San Francisco. Once Aunt Josephine’s divorce was finalized along with a draining custody battle of her twins: Frank and Regina, she made the move along with them. She was  a bookkeeper for a private company which would grow a lot over the years to come.

By then, I was well into school. I didn't meet my best friend till around 6th grade. She moved in, right down the street from me. Her name? Olivia France, and we had a lot in common. Curly hair, mixed ethnicity and being an only child had eventually made us inseparable. Sleepovers were mandatory; once a week at least. Our birthdays were celebrated together; even though there was a three month gap. All in that same time, I developed a habit of sleeping with the light on. Maybe it was because I was an only child, I felt alone. But ever since I had that strange dream, I was never the same.

One time, I was snooping in Mom and Dad's closet; stuff everywhere: like old boxes, sewing materials, an old boot, just stuff I'd never seen in the house before. I didn't know what I was on the hunt for. I just knew I was looking for something. Then suddenly, I came across this awesome Native American war bonnet. It was