The Titan Code

3. A Step in the Wrong Direction

TWO successful trips in a row left me feeling positive. Over the years I've had some rotten experiences from arriving in random places. I'd turned up in the middle of a heavy monsoon in a rainforest and was so sodden when I landed back at home I had to replace the mattress.

Another time I was stranded in what I could only assume was the Australian outback. There was literally no scenery other than dust and a few half-dead trees and the heat was unbearable, making a fifteen minute trip feel like an eternity. Then I travelled into a broom cupboard, only to walk out into the middle of a very intimate wedding ceremony which lead to a string of extremely awkward questions and an excruciatingly long fifteen minute wait to get home.

Strangely I find I never travel to an 'unsafe' location, like the middle of an ocean or a cliff's edge, nor do I ever land in somebody's home, only ever public buildings or places. I'm not sure if it's pure coincidence or if somehow, however it may have originated, my Gift is programmed that way. I try not to think of having physical laws applied to me because it makes me feel like I'm a participant in a game show I didn't know I was in. A really crap game show, I might add.

Naturally I've Googled 'I travel in time' and 'Why do I suddenly turn up in random places?' but unsurprisingly there's nothing remotely useful there. As far as I can tell I'm the only person who has this Gift and quite honestly, it's a lonely place to be.

I sigh as I pick up my phone. The text message from my mother Julie is sat, unopened, flashing away at me, demanding attention. I pull down the preview bar and read the first two lines displayed: "Hello Ella love how r u me and dad well. Do u want 2 come 4 Sunday lun..."

Somehow, opening up the phone and reading the whole text felt like a commitment I'm not ready to deal with yet.

"Sorry, Mum," I mutter to the phone screen.

It's seven o'clock and despite two good travels I now feel miserable. I have nobody I feel I can call and nowhere I can go right now. I want to reply to my mother but the guilt washes over me like a cold shower. Deliberate estrangement is one of the harder aspects of being me, yet a necessary evil.

At 18, when my Gift started, I realised my plans and lifestyle had to change. I was contemplating attending University but found the late nights, drinking and entire set-up simply wouldn't be conducive to keeping me safe. So I had to change my career options- and my entire life plan- to go for the safe route.

Next my relationships started to fail. The friendships I had since school began to wane as I wouldn't go on the nights out to the clubs, or the girls' holidays, or the movie nights. The excuses started becoming strained even to my ears and in the end most friendships were reduced to casual Facebook comments and an occasional text.

Worse than that is my family situation. I'm an only child and always had a good friendship with my parents, Graham and Julie, which made it all the more difficult to reduce my involvement with them.

At first they thought I was being a moody, awkward teenager who suddenly found her parents embarrassing. But by the age of 20 I'd moved out into my own flat and visited perhaps twice a month, with a few texts and calls in between.

Leaving home ripped me in two and for a time I suffered what I suppose was depression. Any lingering interest I had in socialising dwindled and I began to fear leaving home. The guilt and worry and anxiety built up every time I tried to think and eventually the dams burst- I spent days and days crying; even when I travelled I'd arrive and burst into tears. Then I'd get home emotionally drained and the whole process continued.

Now, four years later, I find I've no choice but to cut off my emotions as they're too difficult to deal with. I can't ever share my life or true self with anyone and it's just something I have to accept. I can cope but not live.

*

I feel the familiar tug around my middle which wakes me from my sleep. I open my eyes groggily to see the walls of the dark living room fading away: I've fallen asleep on the couch, phone in hand, totally unprepared.

I feel an unpleasant damp sensation under my legs and bum: I've travelled into a wet, muddy field in a cool place. As I pick myself up from the ground, bare feet sinking into the clarts, I see darkness and a length of wire which evidently is a fence. Perhaps I'm in a farmer's field?

I unlock my phone.

"Crap! 7 percent battery, I'm such an idiot!" I scold myself as I put the phone light on. The dazzling white light illuminates more lengths of wire which section off rectangular areas. I can see a few signs hammered into the earth but not read them; to my left is a large white sign so I carefully walk towards it, feet squelching in the mud.

As I reached the sign I turn the phone light towards it.

A lead weight sinks into the pit of my stomach, all sensation drains from my face and limbs and I'm stood rooted to the spot, even though my instinct is to run away screaming in a blind panic.

The dirty, mud-spattered sign displays a hand-drawn warning triangle with a skull inside. It reads:

DANGER

LAND MINES

My phone bleeps, warning of a low battery, and the light switches off. I'm left stock-still in the dark, fear and panic filling every fibre of my body. I'm cold and uncomfortable but the sheer terror of moving keeps me stuck in place.

I dare a look down and although I can't see anything under my feet the change in balance makes me tense up. One wrong shift of weight and I'll be blown into a million pieces and nobody would know where I went and that was the end.

Trembling, I open the message from my mother and try to reach the keys to reply but I'm in such a cold sweat I can't grip the display enough and I'm too scared to move any further.

A tear rolls down my cheek. I could very possibly die tonight and I can't even say goodbye to my family. Every fear and regret and wrong that has ever happened in my life wells up into my mind; I've got to bite down so hard to stop my whole body shaking and sobbing.

"Please," I whisper desperately to the inky blue sky, "please, whatever is up there, please don't let me die tonight. Please let me make amends for my family, I can't leave like this. Please don't let me die, please don't let me die..."

I silently repeated my prayer, eyes clamped shut, for what felt like an eternity. I was never sure about what the meaning of life was, and although being a pragmatist I always felt there had to be more to it, and in this moment I was willing to pray to anything if it kept me alive.

Fifteen lifetimes dragged tortuously by until blessed relief came. The tingling spread through my limbs and intensified. My body was being tugged away and the white square of plastic before me faded into a blank television screen.

The coolness of the dark flat engulfs my body and the air becomes familiar and safe.

Stood on top of my sofa, feet caked in mud, I sink onto the cushions and sob. I sob and cry and wail for every hurt and pain and regret I have ever felt, and for every opportunity I've been forced to give up. The good experiences I had from travelling are a front- a rouse- to distract from the startling reality that I'm in a very dangerous position and every night is potentially my last.

When the crying subsides and I can once again breathe properly I vow to make a change. First thing in the morning I'll call my Mum, I'll join them for Sunday dinner and I will make an effort to put some purpose into my life again. If I'm going to die suddenly every night at least I can try to live again.