Where were you when it happened? What were you doing when the first bombs flew through the sky? When the news reporter cried on national television? When all the radios went mute?

These teenagers here were hardly born yet. They've spent their whole lives in these bunkers. Under the ground surrounded by war. They have no idea what it was like before, only old photos and stories they've heard. The closest thing they get to their parents' world is an old Hollywood blockbuster screened through a 35 mm projector. One two-hour feature film, two miles of film rolled into five reels. But in these conditions it's bound that sometimes some of the reels are either destroyed or simply lost. A big chunk of the story is missing. In a way, that's a good way to describe how I feel about my life. There are a lot of reels missing.

I missed the whole global warming thing, and the war against terrorism. Today it seems very redundant anyway. But I missed a lot of good things too. I thought I had more years to prepare myself. Then one day I had to be a soldier. I opened my eyes and I was in the battle field already. But I guess that's the case with any war no matter what year it is. You think you still have time and you don't. You just have to man up.

Where was I when Judgment Day happened? Nowhere. I did not exist. I slid right past it. Jumped ahead. Never saw it. One of my missing reels.

If I had told about all this in 2007 they'd have locked me up in a state hospital. I know that for a fact. I was sixteen at the time. That would make me forty-five years old right now. And yet I'm turning twenty-five next week. I might look worn out, scarred and tired but I don't look forty-five.

I want to tell you about time-travelling. You can laugh at me like Derek laughed at me when I told him. That was years ago, I had just arrived here. Derek looked at his brother and laughed at this young, delusional kid who was talking about impossible things. There we were, surrounded by what was left of the world we destroyed. Computers, machines, ruins and rubble. And he was laughing at me. We almost destroyed our existence. Impossible is nothing for us.

Kyle didn't laugh. He just looked at me. Maybe he knew already.

Or he was just being polite.

This is a secret I want to share with you. Just in case something happens to me. Or maybe because I want to get it out of me. We are almost there. It's almost happening. The time-travelling. We've got the brightest minds in the world looking for a gateway through time. And that's a fact.

You don't have to believe. Go ahead, just have a good laugh. I'm glad one of us can.

I was introduced to the techs some time ago. And when I walked into the room and saw what they'd come up, my heart sank. They were enthusiastic, they were sure they'd found a way to stop the machines. A rock-solid plan, destroy Skynet before it's even born. And I could hardly cover my disappointment. I tried so hard to change the future and here I was – at the starting point.

But, I must remind you, time-travelling is not our escape plan. It can't be. We can't escape the real world we have here. And that is why we are keeping this quiet. Because we've all lost someone we love and we've all done things we regret and we have moments we would like to relive. We're all on board the Titanic and there's only one lifeboat to take you back. What are you ready to do to save yourself? Who would you sell your soul to?

No, time-travelling is not a vacation. The past is not a holiday resort. So before you even think about it, don't.

The time I've spent here has taught me humility. I've learned to show some respect to the people around me. Here I'm not the only one who has lost most of their family. Here nobody has a normal life. Nobody goes to school. There I was feeling sorry for myself. I kept complaining about the responsibilities I never wanted. How it was just mom and me against the world. How everyone I loved died. And it was still a hell of a lot better than what most people get here. You know, I'm the lucky one here, at least I know what it was like before.

Back then Derek and I, we fought about everything all the time. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't listen. After all I was helping them. I was telling them about machines, about the war. I was John Connor. I had fought this war long before they had. The stories I had heard about the future or about the war, they couldn't compare what it is really like. I can't blame Derek punching me in the face when I kept telling him we shouldn't destroy all the machines. That they had names, like they mattered. That not all of them were out to get us.

These people gave me a place to sleep when I didn't know where to go. They gave me a home. They'd seen their friends or parents or sisters being killed by the machines and I didn't know when I'd crossed the line. I kept talking about machines that could help us. And I kept asking about a machine who'd taken a girl I cared for. And I said 'a girl' not a machine. And I said 'cared for' instead of loved.

When only a few of their crew came back from a mission one night, Derek woke me up and dragged me to see what the machines were really like. I remember thinking that he'd finally gone insane. He was bruised and tired and bloody. And I've never been so scared of him. The room was dark but you could smell death even if you couldn't see it. It was everywhere. 'A machine wouldn't drag your dead body back so your family could properly bury you.' I'd never heard his voice so angry. 'You should show some respect to the people around you.' I was both choking back my vomit and my tears.

I couldn't recognize the bodies in front of me. I couldn't even tell how many there were.

I was shaking and he was just standing there. I was too afraid to look at him but if I had I'd probably seen tears in his eyes. Finally he said, 'I'm sorry' and 'If a machine took your girl, she's dead and you will never see her again.' I stood quietly, I had no words left. 'But we are here for you', he continued, 'From now on we are your family. You don't ever have to worry about that ever again. I will look after you kid.'

For the record, he really was a hero.