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Ciara felt a mix of apprehension and excitement as she stared at the number calling her. It was her number — the one she had submitted twenty years ago when she entered the competition.She had heard her phone ring countless times since then, each call stirring a flicker of hope that was quickly extinguished. But this time was different. This was the call.Back then, she was just thirty, full of quiet desperation and blind hope. The rules were simple: wait. If your number was picked, you would receive a call from the number you had submitted. It had to be that exact number. Some people had moved on and changed theirs, but not Ciara. She had kept hers, unable to take the chance with fate.The prize was a new life. And who would not want that?Like most, Ciara’s life was contained within four walls. She worked, ate, exercised, and slept within the same four walls. Ciara had never had the opportunity to better herself so had never had the privileges she yearned for, like stepping out into the real world or physically meeting with other people. Everyone she knew existed only on screens or were just voices.At twenty, she had believed the competition was a shortcut to success. For the first five years, she waited — did nothing, changed nothing — convinced the call would come and rescue her. But years passed, and hope became despair. She began to realise how many chances she had let slip away, all for a dream she believed would save her. She had wanted nothing more than to step outside, to breathe in real air, to live a life that was not confined to code and concrete.And now, here it was.Her mind raced, and her hands trembled as she tried to will herself to say the word, "Answer." The word came out as a whisper, but the phone obliged.Her heart was beating so hard she could not make out the voice on the other end. It was just noise. She forced herself to breathe, slowly, deeply. Gradually, her heartbeat eased and the voice grew clearer.They were her words. The very ones she had spoken when she entered the competition. The binding words. The ones that ensured she could not back out.The ones that could be her salvation — or her sentence.The words continued to echo around the room as Ciara tried to compose herself. Eventually, her own words stopped, and a second voice continued.“You will be asked three questions. Answer correctly and you win – say ‘start’ to continue.”Ciara felt the panic now welling up inside her, nausea building in her stomach, her head spinning, questioning what she had done, trying to shut out images of the consequences of losing. She had to win.There was a haunting silence as the game waited for Ciara to speak. Ciara wanted to run, hide, hang up the phone – but this, sadly, was not an option. Forfeit would guarantee she would either be ended or endure a worse existence than she already had. She had to win.“Start.”“Okay, Ciara, please choose from the following: Past, Present or Future.”The nausea built in the pit of her stomach, thoughts running through her mind as she tried to process the question. Irrational thoughts spun around and around – surely this could not be the question? Was it a trick? Ciara could not process anything as the panic grew and grew. She felt bile in her throat as she tried to concentrate. Eventually, she managed to form the word, “Present.”“This is your first question. The Present.“What colour is the glass in the centre of your keepsake box?”Ciara could feel herself starting to calm, the sickness fading as she realised she had chosen correctly. If all the questions were going to be this simple, there was nothing for her to worry about.Ciara loved her keepsake box. It was made out of black glass on the outside and red in the centre. Ciara answered, “Red.”“Please choose from the following: Past, Present or Future.”Ciara thought about it. She did not want to make the mistake of thinking just because the first question was easier, the next would be the same.Ciara’s hands were sweating. Rubbing them down her top, she answered, “Past.” She had no logical reason for choosing as she had. Ciara wished she had taken more time to think about it, but it was too late now.“This is your second question. The Past.“What was the name you gave to your first Port character?”Ciara had not played the game for years – it was a childhood game. But she had fond memories of it and could vividly recall her first character: “Rabbit.”Ciara spat the word out in excitement. All the anxiety had now faded. This was not what she thought it would be, and only one question was left.The voice spoke again. “Please choose the following answer: Past, Present or Future.”Ciara was now feeling so confident, she gave little thought to the wording. Thinking the future had not happened, and therefore the question would be impossible, Ciara decided to go with Past again.The voice again. Ciara poised herself for the final question.“So be it. You have made your choice. Please make your way to the door.”Ciara felt the anxiety returning, a tightness in her chest making it difficult to breathe. What was this? What had she done?Hesitantly, she made her way to the door, sweat now dripping from the ends of her fingers. Ciara slowly touched the pad to open the door.The voice again. “Please enter your new life.”The confusion, now mixed with anxiety, caused Ciara to feel dizzy. She tried to steady herself by holding on to the wall, but it was too late. Ciara felt the sensation of falling – and then, nothing more.When she awoke, Ciara was no longer in her living space but somewhere strangely familiar. It was a place she had seen, but only in a book – a history book. Somehow, Ciara had been transported to the past, years into the past, far before she was even born.Someone waved and called her name. Ciara waved back. She looked at all the houses surrounding her – all so different in appearance. The flowers in the gardens and the trees – so many trees, reaching out as far as she could see.Ciara breathed in the cool, fresh air and then made her way up the path she was standing on instinctively knowing that the key she held in her hand would fit the lock.This was not completely what she had hoped for when entering the games, but it was better than the life she had been living. Even so, Ciara knew that this tranquillity would not last. In fact, she knew the exact date it would end.A calendar hung on the kitchen wall. The date circled was the twenty-second of May, twenty thirty-five. In five years, the world as it was would no longer exist. Ciara had five years to enjoy life, and she was going to make the most of it&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

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The Long Wait

LouStark

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The Log Wait

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Milly Bunting

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