Unwilling Time TravellerMature

Sophy Parker is only ten when she is thrown across time, and meets her 25 year old self, who tells her she has the power to travel through time, but not to control when or where it happens, let alone where she will end up...

I was ten when it started. One moment I was in bed, happy, full of the cake I had scoffed at Maisie's party, and beginning to feel sleepy. The next, I was standing in my pyjamas in a strange room, watching a woman who must have been about twenty-five sleep. Suddenly, her eyes snap open. 

"You're here!" She exclaims. I look around to see if there was anyone else who could possibly be "here" where ever here was. "Look, don't worry. I'm.. well, this is going to be hard to believe, but I'm you in fifteen years time!" 

"Prove it." I say warily. She pulls out a worn teddybear, with writing on the label. It reads:

 She is you, believe it or not. Signed, Ten year old Sophy Parker. 

I blink at it disbelievingly, then my eyes move up to rake my future self's body. I have become rather curvy, more curvy than I would like, but my stomach is still flat, my lips still full and a little cracked, and you can still see the scar running through my left eyebrow all the way to my temple from when I cracked my head open, aged six. 

"So, you must have questions." Future Sophy says, smiling. 

"Umm..." I think for a while, then burst out: "DOYOUHAVABOYFRIEND?" 

She laughs, and says yes, she does, but he's not just her boyfriend, he's her fiancé, and he loves her very much. 

"How did I get here?" I ask next. 

"Well.. You can travel through time. Hard to believe I know. But it's the truth, I swear. I can pinch you, you aren't dreaming."

"Can... can you control it? Can I?" 

"No, sadly. I have no control, even now. Although, sometimes, when I feel myself slipping away, I listen to my favourite song, my lullaby that.. er, my fiancé, I can't tell you his name, sorry, wrote for me, and it keeps me in that time. Here, I made a CD of it. And here's a CD player for you, so you can listen to it. Keep it with you at all times."

As I open my mouth to ask another question, I feel myself slipping away. She presses the CD player, with the CD in it, into my hands, and then I am standing on my bed, and it is the same night that I just left. I can tell because I can see my calendar, the kitty one that mum got me for christmas, and the last day that has been crossed off is the day before the day with MAISIE'S PARTY written on it. I look at the clock. Amazingly, it is five minutes before I left. 

The End

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