The Titan Code

24. Eye on the World

NOTHING happened on my travels that night except I spent the fifteen minutes in the cold dampness of night feeling sorry for myself. I went and sat on a bench and stared at the inky blackness overhead wondering how I ended up in this mess and how the blissful ignorance of only a few weeks ago actually seems attractive.

I know there's someone's life on the line. I know I have to knuckle down and do this to absolve myself of this burden. Yet being caught up in the drama of making relationships has taken over my thoughts and thoroughly distracted my attention to the point where I'm not sure I can separate my real life from this fantasy life.

And there's only one person who can help me.

I need my Mum.

I know it's after midnight but I don't care; I send the text and pray she's up late watching documentaries with Dad.

She doesn't reply until seven in the morning.

Ella love, r u ok? Do you want 2 come for lunch today? Dad will pick you up at nine if u want to come. love Mum xx

Through blurry eyes I cry and smile and hastily respond with a positive. This is what I miss. With the most succinct message I text Alex that nothing happened, even though I know we need to do more I have to get away from randy deities and emotionally restricted architects to remember what it's like to be a human.

*

The drive with my Dad is great. We talk about old movies, the latest in brainless comments from my Aunty Sue, the weather... it's so blissfully wonderful to be genuinely distracted. He finishes with a couple of jokes he's been telling since I was a kid but I laugh nonetheless. Mum greets me with a hug and a cup of tea as I roll in and immediately chides Dad for not picking up the milk she asked for; he turns and heads back out but I suspect it's more about leaving us alone. 

"So, love, what's wrong? You don't text me in the middle of the night saying you miss me for no reason." Her round face smiles at me knowingly and it sends a pang of sadness so strong that I just burst out crying, unbidden, repressed feelings finding their moment to gush.

She pulls me into her shoulder and I can hear the ugly, gasping sounds coming from my mouth which hurts my jaw and throat to swallow and breathe. But eventually the sensation subsides and there's nothing left to cry with.

Her pale blue eyes lock onto mine with softness.

"What's the matter, love?"

"I'm an idiot. I just... I don't have any sense of good and bad, I can't tell what's good for me and what isn't and even when I think I do, it's horribly wrong," says this croaky, strauined voice that I don't recognise.

"Is it man trouble?"

I fiddle with my nails. "Yeah."

"Things didn't work out with Harry, eh?"

For a split second I wonder who the hell she's on about but it hits me. Ah yes, Harry, that unexpected night where all this bonding happened and my eyes opened. 

"No. We were flirting a bit, you know, he kissed me, got a call, had to leave and now I find he used to be a player with a list of exes and drama longer than history." I sigh sadly. It seems to pathetic saying it out loud without the actual details.

"He seemed like such a nice lad," she says wistfully, "but if he's too stupid to realise how great you are then he's not worth the tears. I'm sorry, Ella."

I want to cry but my heart feels used up in pain yet it's not just for the next-level ghosting I've had. Mum believes in me somehow and that's such a confort, and such a painful burden all at once.