Daughters of Men

THE SUBLIMINAL WORLD -BOOK 1- DAUGHTERS OF MEN ◊ LAURA VAN REED Copyright © Laura Van Reed 2022 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be altered, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including, but not limited to, scanning, duplicating, uploading, hosting, distributing, or reselling, without the express prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of reasonable quotations in features such as reviews, interviews, and certain other non-commercial uses currently permitted by copyright law. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and businesses are purely products of the author’s imagination and are entirely fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, places, or events is completely coincidental. Table of Contents One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Twenty-Three Twenty-Four Twenty-Five Twenty-Six Twenty-Seven Twenty-Eight Twenty-Nine Thirty Thirty-One Thirty-Two Thirty-Three Thirty-Four Thirty-Five Thirty-Six Epilogue One About the Author Dedicated to my husband, mother, and sister for always encouraging me; to my best friend for sparking my creativity; and last, but certainly not least, to my children for bringing more joy and happiness into my life than I ever thought possible. One I hear the music first. It’s a song I’ve heard before. Something from my past. Where have I heard this song before? The answer tugs at the corners of my mind but remains hidden. My vision slowly comes to, and I can see a door. Then a floor and the walls. I know this place. I’m in my high school lobby, facing the main doors to the gymnasium. Our school’s logo — a fish leaping above three squiggly lines — is painted onto the wall next to the far-right door. But something about it looks off. It’s red, and I know it should be green. The song’s deep bass and upbeat tempo vibrate through my shoes and up my legs as I walk closer to the source of the music. With each step I take, the music grows louder, and the lyrics of the catchy dance song flow through my head. ♫ Where did you come from? Where did you go? Where did you come from Cotton Eye Joe? ♬ Wait, is this a country song? Because I can definitely hear a fiddle playing. My suspicions are confirmed as soon as I open the gym doors. From up on the gymnasium stage, a DJ bops his head in time with the music as rows of enthusiastic teens line dance beneath a spinning disco ball. I knew it! It is a country song! Looking past the line dancers, I take in the gaudy royal blue, sea green and silver streamers strewn from the ceiling. A partition wall decorated with cutouts of mermaids, seashells and dolphins is placed in the middle of the gym, designating the back of the room as the dance floor and leaving the front of the room for tables and chairs. A long table just to my right holds bowls of snacks and bottles of soda, and on each of the dining tables is a royal blue tablecloth with a centerpiece made of silver and gold balloons. Walking further into the gymnasium, my eyes adjust to the dim uplighting, and I’m finally able to make out the faces of the students around me. I don’t recognize any of these people. And everyone is dressed so weird. Is this a costume party or something? Just then, a girl in a bright pink tube top and ruffled white miniskirt stops directly in front of me and pulls a tin of mints from her clutch. Even in the dark, I can tell her foundation is about two shades too light and looks literally painted onto her face. The excessive amount of sparkles sprinkled into her hair and smeared around her eyes is almost blinding — even her lip gloss looks like it’s made of glitter! It’s seriously like a glitter factory exploded on the poor girl’s head. Hilariously, the same sparkles dot her date’s mouth, making it pretty obvious what they’d just been doing. At least the glitter on his lips takes the focus off his dumb faux hawk! But is he also wearing two polo shirts . . . both with their collars popped? The fashion trends at this dance are seriously questionable. Shaking my head with amusement, I turn around and spot a photo booth set up in the corner of the gym, underneath a massive white banner. Sprawled on the banner in large gold cursive handwriting are the words ‘Under the Sea’ and underneath those words in smaller dark blue block script, ‘RBH Homecoming 2003’. Why am I dreaming that it’s 2003 when I wasn’t even born yet? And almost simultaneously another thought crashes into my mind as well. How do I know I’m dreaming? I’ve always been a vivid dreamer, but I’ve never known in real time that I was dreaming. The realization always hits me once I wake up. I let my eyes scan the long line at the photo booth as I ponder these thoughts — and that’s when I see them. No way. Is that Rachel and Nathan? It looks like them, but it doesn’t look like them at the same time. Well, duh, Willow. ‘Cause they haven’t been in high school for, like, twenty years. The giant crowns adorning the heads of my best friend’s parents make it obvious they’ve just won Homecoming King and Queen. With a wave of his hand, the photographer signals to the couple to strike a pose and Nathan affectionately wraps his arms around Rachel’s waist. Riverbend High’s newest Homecoming Queen carefully rearranges the skirt of her pastel pink dress and then they both smile for the camera, their faces beaming with pride. Did Shannon ever tell me her parents were on Homecoming Court before? She must have, and I just don’t remember. Loud laughter from the dance