Monday, 14 October 2013

Diary of a Time Traveller

Diary of a Time Traveller

Out of Time

Five seconds left.

In five seconds I’m dead. No getting out of it this time. In the middle of the road, sprawled on my side after tripping on a pole, a car hurtling towards me. Yep, dead. Dead as a doornail. That’s what I’m gonna be in five seconds.

Now comes my life flashing in front of my eyes. Bare with me, it’s normal.

Born eleven years ago, have a Mum, Dad, and little brother, blah blah, all very boring. Grew up in a stupid little village with nothing to do. Totally boring. Went to school where I met Milo, my best friend. He’s great, not boring at all. Although this is all his fault. Yep, for sure. My upcoming death is all his fault. Must remember to come back and haunt him.

Four seconds left.

School was boring. Learnt, or is it learned? Never paid attention in English. I’ll go with learnt even if it doesn’t sound right. But who cares? I don’t. So, I learnt normal stuff--maths, English, history, geography, science, all boring. Except history, I actually enjoyed that, especially the prehistoric lessons. Dinosaurs roaming the Earth. Totally cool. Although they’re as dead as I’m about to be.

Three seconds left.

What else? Nothing! Wow, my life sucked big time.

Okay, next come the don’ts. It’s normal.

Two seconds left.

Don’t number one: When your grandfather gives you a skeleton key on his death bed and tells you it has been in the family for a thousand years and to learn its secret, don’t take it into school to show your best friend. Wow, that was a mistake and a half.

Don’t number two: When you’re cornered by the school bully, and all he wants is some stupid key, don’t tell him no and then call him names.

Don’t number three: Don’t, if you’re fast enough to get away by running across a car park and along an alleyway, don’t, and I mean don’t, under any circumstances, turn around and give the bully the finger. You’ll end up tripping on a rock and falling into the road.

But, hey, you live and learn.

Or not.

Oh, I’m Jacob, by the way. Eleven-years-old and soon to be splattered across the front of a car.

One second left.

One second: the difference between being squished by a car or, if you’re a time traveller like me, being eaten by a dinosaur.

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