THE THINGS HE HEARD

MATT SHAW

Chapter One

He didn’t have cancer. That’s not to say he didn’t have something in his head which shouldn’t have been there but, it wasn’t cancer. That was just the name he gave it, not that people were happy with his choice of nickname. Instead of listening to him, and hearing what he felt was his problem, they simply told him that people had lost loved ones to the disease, and that it wasn’t something to joke about. They also warned him that, by stating he had cancer he was also tempting fate.

‘Do you want to die? It’s not a nice way to go. An unpleasant disease eating away at your insides, spreading through your body.’

‘It would be better than this,’ he said.

‘There is nothing wrong with you! Stop it!’

But there was something wrong with him. Just because others couldn’t see it, it didn’t mean it wasn’t there. It was most definitely there, buried deep in his brain and - daily - whispering to him, constantly.

His cancer.

*

The school bell rang echoing through the long corridors throughout the musty-smelling school. Even before the teachers had dismissed their students, the pupils started to pack up their belongings. Each of them desperate to get their books to their lockers ahead of running to the queue for the cafeteria before the “good” food was taken.

Ben Closs didn’t move at the same speed as the rest of his fellow classmates. Instead, he purposefully loitered so as not to bring any further unwanted attention to himself. He already had a hard enough time dealing with the other students. Or rather, avoiding them.

Maybe it was because Ben was quiet by nature, but the other kids in the school seemed to prey on him as though he were easy pickings. A cruel word here, a taunt there and - proving their “strength” - they were deemed “big” and “clever” in front of their fellow pupils. Whenever they came spouting their poison, or pushing him around, he never tried to stand his ground. He let them walk over him. Possibly because he knew he wasn’t the biggest of ten-year-olds and, therefore, wouldn’t do well in a physical fight. Or, more likely, because he was scared about what his cancer would tell them to do or, more specifically, that he would actually listen to it.

Ben had ignored the cancer for as long as he could recall. He couldn’t remember when it started, other than recalling times when he thought someone had said something to him which he’d misheard.

‘What did you say?’

‘Didn’t say a word...’

‘Oh, I thought you had.’

They would laugh. They would say, ‘Hearing things, huh? First sign of madness.’

Listening to those whispered thoughts is the second.

Ben never discussed the voices with anyone. Instead, he would complain that he could feel something in his head, or that his head ached. Anything and everything to get someone to stop and actively look at his head. And they did. He’d had a multitude of tests and, the doctors - and specialists - never found anything. When he was referred to a therapist, to talk about what he was feeling, he never actively opened up any more than to say, something is in my head. The reason being was that he was scared of them thinking he was insane; that they would lock him up in a mental institute and throw away the key, only checking in on him so as to stick him in the arm with more unwanted medicines whenever he started to make too much noise.

It might have been okay had the words whispered been kind ones. Stroke the kitten, give a homeless man some money, give some affection to your dog. The head-stranger’s words were never kind though. The thoughts pushed were mostly always dark and overly aggressive.

Chapter Two

Ben said nothing as Jonathan Plaw shoved him back against the locker. Hanging back at class hadn’t helped him today and - when he got to his own locker - the usual group of idiots were there too.

‘Sorry, didn’t see you there.’ Jonathan laughed. He had seen him there. The shove back wasn’t an accident. It was a purposeful push with both hands, open-palmed, against Ben’s shoulders.

The shove didn’t exactly hurt Ben but, it was enough to wind him. Even so, he still stayed silent as Jonathan and his friends continued to laugh at Ben’s expense.

When this first started to happen, partly thanks to Ben joining the class mid-way through the term when most people had already made their groups of friends and considered “outsiders” as the enemy, Ben would often find himself in tears. Sometimes he made it home before they came and, sometimes he only made it as far as the bathroom stalls. Wherever they spilled, the tears were not down to the bullies. He knew those idiots were bigger cowards than most, picking on others if only to make themselves feel better. The tears were because of the cancer.

Always the cancer, chattering away for only him to hear.

What scared Ben more than the voices themselves were the days in which he let himself daydream that he’d actually listen to them. Today was one such day. As Jonathan laughed and shoved Ben again, why did you walk into me like that?, Ben imagined taking a pencil from out of the case he was trying to put away in his locker.

Furthering the thoughts, he dreamed of stabbing Jonathan in the neck with it repeatedly, until it was too blunt to penetrate his skin anymore. Would Jonathan still be laughing? Even if Jonathan wasn’t laughing, Ben would picture taking that very same pencil and popping the prick’s eyeballs. A final move dreamed, being to push the writing utensil up Jonathan’s nose and into his stupid fucking brain. Then, with Jonathan’s body twitching violently from side to side, he would spit over him as one final, and deserved, “fuck you”.

‘What are you smiling at?’ Jonathan asked when he noticed Ben was seemingly laughing along with them. If the victim laughed with the bullies then, the bullies weren’t doing their “job” properly.

Ben didn’t answer him which only served to infuriate Jonathan further. He shoved him back against the locker for a third time, with another Whoops, sorry.

There was plenty Ben could have said in times like these, but experience had taught him that, there was never the “right” thing to say. Whatever came to mind, whatever passed his lips; it would always do nothing more than aggravate the bully further, or even give the bully more satisfaction in their antics. If Ben pleaded to be left alone, the bully knew he had won. If Ben spat hostile words back, the bullying would escalate to the physical. If Ben broke down in front of them, they wouldn’t care. But, if he said nothing... The bullies would always get infuriated. That being said, Ben’s silence never “stopped” them though. Even if they got no reaction, for the bullies it was pretty much a standard part of the day now. Get up, get dressed, get breakfast, bus to school, catch up with mates before lessons, go to lessons, break, lunch, lessons, laugh with mates, bus ride home and - within all that; torment whoever they took a dislike to.

With the third shove back, Ben stopped smiling. Jonathan’s smile broadened as he took this to be a little victory for himself. If only he knew the reason for the smile. Then, seemingly bored, he said, ‘Freak.’ With that, he and his friends headed to the cafeteria.

Ben stayed where he was and just watched them go. There was no point following, despite the fact he felt hungry. They’d only carry on picking on him. Today, like some of his other days, he would skip lunch for the quieter life. A rumbling stomach is better than unpleasant words of a prick.

Despite knowing that it was lunchtime, Ben still found himself looking at his watch. One thought in his head, Is it time to go home yet?

Most days outside of Ben’s house went slowly. Time seemed to move at half-speed. He would look at a clock and it would be, say, ten in the morning. What would feel like hours would pass and, he’d check the time again only to see that three or four minutes had gone by. Only when he was sure for certain that hours had then passed would he check again. This time, five minutes would have passed. Today was worse. The hours, minutes and seconds were moving slower than ever before - and not just because the bullies were noticing him between classes. At home, his dog was poorly with a trip to the vets planned. All he wanted to do was get to his parents to find out if Sammie, a Golden Retriever, was okay. He was sure he would be as he was a tough, old dog. Once, he’d even survived being knocked by a car. Even so, Ben wanted to hear it from his mum or dad, He’s good. Just has a stomach flu.

Tick, tick, tick, tick... Still the clock slowly counts.

Chapter Three

Ben was sitting in one of the few classrooms which had been set aside for pupils struggling with the antisocial behaviour of others. The school knew there was a bullying problem, and this was their way of tackling it; give the bullied children a “safe space” during times when, normally, there’d be no teacher to help them.

The troubled children would sit in the classroom instead of playing outside for recess. They would sit and read, or do that night’s homework, meaning they could go home and just enjoy the television, or video games, or anything else they felt like doing.

A teacher would sit at the front of the class. More often than not they would do so in silence but, on occasion, they might be tempted to have a chat with whoever was sitting closest to them. That is why Ben always chose to sit at the back of the class; a space he didn’t often see when sitting normal classes. The back was always where the idiots sat.

At first Ben would use his time to get his evening’s homework completed. It made sense, seeing as there wasn’t much else to do and - in doing so - it offered a brief break from his thoughts. The problem was, the homework never took him very long and, soon enough, the thoughts would come creeping back in…

In the quieter moments, the thoughts were never overly bad. With no one picking on him, they had no reason to be. That being said, they weren’t necessarily good either as, either way you looked at it, they were still disruptive. Even now, for example, Ben was sitting there in the quiet room with this little voice chattering in his ear, asking him whether he thought it would be funny to jump up from his seat and suddenly scream. Unless someone had a heart condition and the sudden shock induced a heart attack, it was a harmless enough act. A few people might jump, a handful might laugh at how stupid Ben was but - heart attack victims ignored - it wasn’t harmful. Not to anyone else at least. It still would have made Ben look like an idiot, giving others more reason to look at him as though he were shit on their shoe.

As the voice grew louder in his head, begging him to just shout something out in order to break up the silence, Ben closed his eyes and tried to take himself off to another place. This tactic, to remove himself from the current situation, rarely worked for him but, at least it stopped people from seeing his eyes well up as the struggle against the voice intensified within his head.

Hahahahaahah, look at Ben… What are you crying about, faggot? You wet your little girl panties?

Ben would sooner they thought he was sleeping during class over seeing him cry, or - at the very least - be close to crying. Again, whatever gave them less reason to pick on him…

Go on. Stand up and scream at the top your lungs. It will be funny. Do it for me. Come on. You never do anything for me. Do this one thing and I promise I’ll leave you alone.

‘Shut up,’ Ben muttered under his breath before he had a chance to stop himself. He opened his eyes and glanced to the desk next to him. A girl was sitting there. She was staring straight back at him with a confused look on her face. It was a fair assumption that she thought he was talking to her. Ben didn’t try and explain, he simply looked away in the hope that she’d do the same.

Tick, tick, tick, tick... Still the clock slowly counts.

Chapter Four

Alice had braced herself for the news but when the vet said there was nothing else that could be done, the words still felt like a balled fist to the gut. As unpleasant as the feeling was - and continued to be as the words constantly played back and twisted in both head and stomach - she knew that was the “easy” part of what should have been just another mundane day in the office. For her, the harder part was going to be having to tell Ben.

As Alice sat in the car, waiting to pick Ben up from outside the school gates, she couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t said “everything is going to be okay” when they talked of the vet trip over breakfast. The truth was, both Alice and her husband, Roy, knew it wasn’t going to be a “happy” trip. Sammie had been ill for a while and all signs had pointed to the kidneys failing. He was an older dog so; it wasn’t unexpected but - at the same time - it didn’t take the sting off the news. Old or not, the simple truth was, Alice wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. None of them would be, but especially not Ben.

Sammie spent most of his evenings up in Ben’s room. Ben would sit on the edge of his bed and play computer games and Sammie would stretch out on the floor, next to Ben’s feet. Before he got sick, if Ben left the room to fetch a drink, or use the bathroom, Sammie would instantly stir from his sleep and follow after him, tail wagging. Ben would do what he wanted to do, go back to his spot on the end of his bed and - Sammie would follow, only to settle back down for another nap, once Ben had settled. The pair of them were inseparable and whilst Sammie certainly wasn’t trained as an emotional support dog, he still acted like one for their son. And now Alice was going to have to tell him that, tomorrow, Sammie would be put to sleep.

The procedure had been offered at the morning’s appointment but, even though she knew it was for the best as it was clear Sammie was suffering, Alice couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. Instead, she asked that it be done the following morning, so as to give the family one last evening together. Furthermore, she requested that it be done at their home too. The vet said there were additional charges incurred but, Alice didn’t care. By doing the procedure in his home, hopefully Sammie wouldn’t be too scared. To help with that, she’d also stay by his side, stroking his thick coat of fur until the vet said he was gone.

A tear ran down Alice’s cheek as the very thought of all this ran through her mind. As easy as it would have been to break down into tears and cry for her dog, she knew she couldn’t let Ben see her like that. For his sake, she had to be strong. Her tears would come later, when she was either alone, or behind the closed bedroom door with Roy.

Three o’clock. As the pupils started to file out of the school building, all desperate to get home, Alice kept watch for her son. Whilst she wasn’t in a hurry to tell him the news, she wished she could just fast forward all of this.

Chapter Five

‘How was school?’ Roy asked from the head of the dining room table.

The family had sat down to dinner, not that any of them were feeling particularly hungry. Roy never usually asked how school was but, it was an attempt to get his son to say something. Since getting back from school, and Alice explaining to him about Sammie’s health, Ben hadn’t uttered a single word. Instead, he’d just been sitting there with an even more far-away look on his face than usual.

As Ben pushed the food around on his plate in an effort to make it look like he was eating, he shrugged to his father’s question. Roy didn’t push him for more of an answer. He figured that Ben would talk when he was ready to.

Alice couldn’t stand the silence as it allowed herself to get lost in her unpleasant thoughts about what tomorrow would bring. Roy may have been willing to let the silence stay but, she wasn’t and so she asked him, ‘What about work? How was that?’

Roy couldn’t help but smile. Alice never usually asked him how his day was. In truth, they rarely spoke much at all these days as they both made-do with a stale, monotonous marriage. Still, she was making the effort, so it was only polite to meet her half way. ‘Work was work,’ he said. The last thing he wanted to do after getting in from work was to then sit about and talk about it. Instead, he wanted to forget the day and unwind with a glass of whiskey and shit on the television.

Usually at this point, Roy would ask how her day was but given what happened at the vet, he didn’t seem like a good question to ask and so, conversation turned to silence once more.

Unable to stand the silence, Alice turned her attention to Ben. As she watched him continue to push his food around the plate, she told him, ‘Don’t play with your food.’

Ben ignored her but, before anyone could say anything to him, he asked, ‘Will it hurt?’

Both Roy and Alice knew exactly what he was talking about. Alice looked at her husband in the vague hope he would take the lead and answer this. It was only fair, after all, seeing as she’d been the one to have to break the initial news to him. To her relief, Roy answered, ‘They’ll make him sleepy first.’ He added, ‘He won’t feel anything. It will just be like going to sleep.’ 

‘When you go to sleep, you wake up.’

‘He won’t feel anything,’ Alice said.

Rather morbidly, Ben finished her sentence, ‘Ever again.’

‘That’s enough,’ Alice warned him, not that she was going to follow through and discipline him if he did say anything else in such a manner. They knew what Ben could be like with some of his choice words and sentences and whilst they didn’t normally let it slide - it was understandable that he’d kick off now. It was the grief and anger talking.

‘I want to be there with him,’ Ben said.

‘No. That’s not possible,’ Roy said before Alice had a chance to say it herself. It was understandable that he would want to stay by his friend’s side but, at that age, they didn’t think it was a particularly suitable thing for him to experience. Why have the last memories being something as heart-wrenching as seeing his friend slip away, when he could keep all the good memories closer to the surface instead.

‘I want to stay with him! I know they let people stay when they do it so, why can’t I?’

‘Because you’re too young. Now, I know it’s upsetting but that’s enough. We have one last night with him and do you really want to spend it arguing? Time is precious, now go and make the most of it if you’ve finished your dinner.’

Ben went to say something but stopped himself. He knew there was no point in arguing with his dad. His mum would usually cave if pressed hard enough but, his dad? He was more likely to simply tire of the argument and hint towards violence instead; a smack across the back of the legs, or something similar.

Ben got up from his chair and went to leave the room.

‘Take your plate out,’ Roy said, further stamping down his dominance.

Without a further word, Ben got his barely touched plate and took it through to the kitchen. Usually Sammie would be following, hoping to get some scraps but - today he’d spent the whole of their mealtime stretching out on the living room floor.

Ben walked into the living room and, still silent, he walked over to where Sammie lay. He laid down next to him and cuddled in. With the exception of a small flick of his tail - a half-arsed attempt to wag it, happy that Ben had come to be with him - Sammie laid motionless; tired and ready for his sleep, not that anyone else was ready.

The voice spoke, If you run away tonight then they won’t be able to take him to the vets because they’ll be looking for you instead. Run away. It makes sense… If you loved Sammie, you would.

Ben closed his eyes. He put his head on the side of Sammie’s body and - the ever-ticking clock was subtly replaced with the beating of his best friend’s heart. The voice gave him this moment to savour and fell silent.

Chapter Six

Ben watched as his mum spoke to his teacher at the front of the class. His mum had her back to Ben but, he knew what she was saying. She was warning the Mrs. Greenfield about what was happening to Sammie; giving her son an excuse for potentially being upset, or even quieter than usual - if such a thing were possible.

Mid-conversation, Mrs. Greenfield glanced over Alice’s shoulder, towards Ben, with a sympathetic look on her face. Ben immediately looked down at the open workbook on his desk.

It wasn’t just the way his teacher looked at him which made Ben feel uncomfortable. It was the fact that everyone else in the classroom was wondering what the hell was going on too. He wished his mum could have spoken to Mrs. Greenfield outside, in the corridor, and been discreet about it but then, it was probably his fault for not saying anything. Although, in his defence, he didn’t know his mum was going to talk to her.

Ben glanced back up in time to see his mum and teacher say goodbye to one another. He watched as Alice left the room, without so much of a backwards look to where he was sitting. No doubt she wanted to avoid the guilt she felt for not letting him say his last goodbye to Sammie, Ben thought. As it stood, his last cuddle and goodbye was at the breakfast table, where he shared a bar of Cadbury’s chocolate with him. It wasn’t his usual breakfast but, seeing as Sammie could eat anything he wanted given what was going to be happening to him… Ben took the opportunity to enjoy some “forbidden” food with him.

A tear ran down his cheek as he remembered the way Sammie’s tail wagged as he ate the chocolate. At the time, Ben couldn’t help but watch him and wonder - did he know what was going to be happening today?

The tear slipped from the bottom of Ben’s cheek and dropped to the page of the book beneath where it immediately soaked in. For once, Ben didn’t try and hide his pain even though the voice told him how he could at least hide it, run at the wall and head-butt it as hard as you can. Better to look insane than weak, is it not?

‘Okay, class, turn to page sixty-three,’ Mrs. Greenfield instructed as she returned to her own desk.

The class quietly started to do as they were told. Ben didn’t. Ben just sat there, staring at the page as the words twisted and moved around until they formed a picture of Sammie.

The voice in his head whispered, They’re all looking at you. They’re all laughing at you. If you make an example of one of them, they’ll all stop laughing at you. If you don’t then, the laughing will never stop. You want it to stop, don’t you? You want them to stop laughing at you, don’t you?

Ben glanced to his right. A few desks away, Jonathan Plaw was doodling in his workbook. Knowing Jonathan, it was probably a little picture of a pecker or something. It didn’t matter what it was. Ben’s mind wasn’t on the picture. His mind was on the idea of repeatedly smashing Jonathan’s fucking head against the desk until his face was completely flat and his eyes were rolled to the back of his skull. His mind was on hearing the screams of his fellow classmates as they ran away from him, putting distance between them and him. His mind was on pushing Jonathan’s body off the chair, onto the floor. His mind was on stamping on the motionless boy’s neck, crushing his windpipe and making it impossible for him to take in another breath. Getting his own cock out and pissing on what he hoped would now be a corpse.

The voice laughed. I never told you to piss on him. That one is all down to you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be perfectly honest with you, I really like your style but… When they come for you, don’t you go blaming that bit on me. You take responsibility, you sick son of a bitch.

Ben blinked back to reality when he noticed Jonathan was staring straight at him. He had a smug look on his face as he mouthed, Woof.

The voice urged him, Kill him. He deserves it. You know it. I know it. Everyone knows it. I doubt you’d even get in trouble. It paused a moment and then pushed further, If you do this one thing, I promise I’ll leave you alone.

Ben abruptly stood up. The moment he did so, he regretted it as his classmates all turned their attention to him. His face flushed as Mrs. Greenfield asked, ‘Is everything okay, Ben?’

Don’t hesitate it. Just run over and slam that prick in the face. It’s okay. I’ve got your back.

Ben pushed the voice to the back of his head and, thinking on his feet, he asked, ‘Can I use the bathroom?’

‘Of course.’

Ben smiled his thanks and, still with all eyes on him, he grabbed his pencil case and walked from the room. As he did so, he heard one of his classmates ask, ‘Why’s he taking his case?’

Jonathan answered, ‘It’s where he keeps his Tampax.’

Chapter Seven

Mr. Tope followed the sound of the crying, after it had disturbed his class.

The loud, pained crying was coming from the boy’s toilet down the other end of the corridor and was carrying on up through the school. With a couple of other teachers coming out of their classes, it wasn’t just Mr. Tope who’d been disturbed.

‘It’s okay,’ he told them, ‘I’ll go.’

Mrs. Greenfield leaned out from her own classroom. Unlike Mr. Tope, she knew who it was. It was Ben. More than that, she knew why he was crying. At least, so she thought.

Mr. Tope was too far away from where she was standing to tell him what the issue was. A few steps away from the boy’s bathroom, he’d find out soon enough anyway.

‘Everyone get back to your classes,’ Mr. Tope said.

With the exception of Mr. Gordon, the Deputy Head of Year, the other teachers returned to their classrooms, closing the door behind them. Whatever the commotion was, the pupils didn’t need to see it. Whoever was making that much noise deserved their privacy.

Mr. Tope pushed the bathroom door open and froze. Despite what Mrs. Greenfield thought she knew, Mr. Tope was not confronted with a lost boy, grieving for his dog.

‘What on earth are you doing, you stupid boy?’ Mr. Tope’s voice echoed down the corridor. Almost all those who heard it stopped what they were doing immediately. Ben didn’t… ‘Stop that! You stupid, stupid boy!’

Ben screamed out in pain again as he put the compass back into his ear and scratched its pointed pin along the part of the inner canal he could get to. Shocked at what he was seeing, Mr. Tope hurried over and snatched the compass from Ben’s hand. Ben dropped to his knees and put his hands to his bloody ears. He screamed again, ‘Make it stop! Please make it stop! I want it gone!’

Mr. Tope dropped the compass to the floor and leaned down to look into Ben’s ear. With horror frozen on his face, he asked, ‘What have you done to yourself?’

Chapter Eight

‘Well, you were fortunate on this occasion,’ the doctor told Ben. The elderly man stood up straight. He had been checking Ben’s ear, with Ben sat on the edge of the hospital bed in the Accident and Emergency department. ‘You haven’t perforated the drum and the damage done should heal well enough on its own.’ He explained, ‘We’ll get you some cream which should aid it but, I certainly wouldn’t recommend you poke anything else into your ears.’

‘But he’ll be okay?’ Alice asked from a few feet away.

‘He’ll be okay,’ the doctor said.

The school had called Alice and told her what Ben had done. By the time she got there, they were looking at calling for an ambulance. They said they couldn’t see any signs of damage but, at the same time, weren’t best equipped to get a really close enough look so - hospital was a safer option. She couldn’t help but wonder whether they thought she was really just going to drive him home despite the blood in his ears. Like, she was that poor a mother that she wouldn’t get him checked over? She bit her lip and told them she’d take him to A&E.

On the drive to the hospital, they’d both remained pretty silent. Neither knew what to say to one another and - still - Alice didn’t know what to say. She knew he had his moments when his temper flared up, and - of course - he’d scream about his cancer from time to time but to actually stab himself in the ear with a compass? Why? She could have asked him on the way over but, there was a part of her which was scared of the answer he’d give.

As it turned out, she didn’t need to ask him.

‘May I ask why you thought it a good idea to put a compass in your ear? Most people, when they have an itch, just use a finger,’ the doctor said - half-joking.

Alice (and Ben) should have known it was an act which would have got people asking questions. Had she thought about it, she would have got the answer herself in the car and - depending on what it was - told him to lie about it so as to stop the doctors prying too much into their lives.

‘I was trying to scrape my cancer out.’

The doctor’s face dropped. ‘Cancer? Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…’

Before he could finish his sentence, Alice admitted, ‘He doesn’t have cancer. It’s just something he says.’

The doctor’s look of sadness turned to one of confusion. ‘Oh…’

‘We’ve told him about saying it but…’

‘I do have a cancer,’ Ben said angrily. ‘They just don’t see it.’

Alice continued, ‘We’ve had tests done. There’s nothing. Honestly, we don’t…’

‘It is there though,’ Ben said.

The doctor grew more confused by the second. He turned to Ben and asked, ‘And where do you think you have this cancer? In your ears?’

‘It’s in my head,’ Ben said.

‘Ben! Please…’

The doctor turned to Alice and said, ‘It’s okay… Let’s see what he has to say.’ He turned his attention back to Ben and confirmed, ‘You think it’s in your head?’

‘Yes.’

Frustrated, Alice said, ‘We’ve had tests done! There was nothing there! Honestly I don’t know why he does this!’

‘It is there! You just don’t see it! No one does! But I know it is there!’ Ben shouted back.

The doctor tried to calm them down and offered, ‘How about I organise a little scan and we take a look? I mean, you’re here so - makes sense to give you a full once over, doesn’t it? Like how a car gets an MOT…’

Alice wanted to tell the doctor not to waste his time, but she knew it would be to no avail. Now Ben had mentioned “cancer”, he’d ensure they checked under every stone, just to be safe.

Ben nodded. ‘And if you see it, you can take it out?’

The doctor smiled. ‘I don’t see why not.’

Chapter Nine

‘I’ve never been so embarrassed,’ Alice said as she drove Ben back to the family home. She was staring ahead at the built-up traffic waiting at a new temporary traffic-light.

Ben was sitting in the back, quiet. He only half-heard his mother speaking to him as, inside his head, the ever-present voice was taunting him, It doesn’t matter how many times you try and silence me, I’ll always be here. You can’t just magic me away. It doesn’t work like that.

‘What were you even thinking?!’ Alice was used to Ben talking about his “cancer”. It was always in times of greater emotional stress; he would get flustered, then quiet and - finally - angry, demanding that his cancer be removed. Alice never truly understood it and, as mentioned to the hospital, all tests had come back clear as a whistle. The only difference between today’s test, and other tests their GP had ordered before now, was that they now had a referral to speak to a counsellor as, according to the doctor talking in private, something was clearly distressing him.

Completely out of character for her, Alice slammed her fist down on the car’s horn. She knew it wouldn’t move the traffic from in front of her, or magically turn the lights from red to green but - it was the equivalent of letting out a scream of frustration.

‘What is going on in that head of yours?’ Everything she said was directed to Ben, yet not actually said to him. She knew he couldn’t answer what was happening in his head, or that he wouldn’t. She knew he wouldn’t apologise for embarrassing her at the hospital and, she knew he wouldn’t say what he was thinking, other than he was trying to remove this so-called cancer from his head.

Alice sighed. It had been a bitch of a day and all she wanted was to get home, lock herself away in her bedroom and cry until the following week. First the dog and now this. As the stress continued to weigh heavily on her shoulders, she couldn’t help but to break down in tears.

Ben looked straight ahead. His intention had never been to make his mum cry and yet, he didn’t know what to say to make it better. As such, he looked away and tried to close his mind to what was happening. The voice had other ideas though and continued, look at what you’ve done now. You’ve made your mother cry. I hope you’re happy. Always upsetting your mother… You’ll be doing this your whole life yet. You should just kill yourself. She might cry once more, when she finds your cold, dead body but… One more weep and then - nothing. She’ll be free. She’ll be happy. You do want your mum to be happy, don’t you? Yes. You should definitely kill yourself.

Chapter Ten

When Alice and Ben got home from the hospital, it was going on seven in the evening. The problem with ordering scans to be done was that it was never a quick process. There were queues of people waiting for the same thing and, unless it was perceived a medical emergency, there was no line-skipping.

Roy was already home when they finally walked through the front door. Although his eyes were less sore-looking than Alice’s, it was clear from his face that he was just as stressed, thanks to Alice keeping him posted with text messages throughout the day.

‘I think you and I need a conversation, don’t we?’ he said the moment Ben walked in. Roy had been impatiently waiting for them to get home, building up this “conversation” in his head. In truth it was less a chat and more of a lecture; a talk about how Ben can’t behave like that and the undue stress he was putting his parents through. It wasn’t the best of conversations to had as it served to do nothing more than drive a bigger wedge between them all but, it was a conversation which Roy felt was needed.

Alice didn’t stop to hear this. Instead, she said, ‘I’m going to find something for us to eat.’ She walked through to the kitchen and, for the first time since living in that house, she closed the kitchen door behind her; a chance to have some privacy and show her pent-up emotion without anyone seeing.

Roy knew better than to follow. He’d check up on her after he’d talked to Ben. With a point of his index finger, he gestured towards the armchair across the room from where he was sitting. ‘Sit.’

Ben walked over and sat down. Unlike Roy and Alice, Ben showed no visible emotion on his face. From an outsider’s perspective, it appeared as though he had entirely shut down.

Roy went to start his lecture but stopped when he finally took notice of his son’s lacking emotion. He frowned and then asked, ‘Are you going to tell me what you were thinking?’ Before he even gave Ben a chance to say anything, he continued, ‘You’re aware you could have damaged your hearing, aren’t you?’

Ben muttered, ‘At least I would have stopped my cancer…’

‘Enough. That is enough of that. We don’t want to hear that word anymore, okay? You do not have cancer. For all intents and purposes, you are a perfectly healthy little boy so, enough with this morbid fascination towards…’

‘I can hear it,’ Ben said in a rare moment of honesty.

‘What do you mean? What can you hear?’

‘My cancer…’

‘Ben, I won’t tell you again…’

‘It’s in my head. It talks to me.’

Roy went to say something else but stopped when his son’s words sunk in. ‘What talks to you?’

‘My cancer! I put the compass in my ear because I was hoping to scrape it out of me so it can’t talk to me anymore…’

‘So you’re hearing voices in your head?’

‘A voice…’

‘And you call it your cancer.’ He paused a moment and asked, ‘Why have you not said this before? What does the voice say?’

‘It tells me to do bad things.’

Roy was almost afraid to ask yet, he knew he had to, ‘Like what?’

Ben paused a moment. He looked around the living room and then asked, ‘Where’s Sammie?’

‘Ben, what does the voice tell you to do?’

‘WHERE’S MY DOG?’ And, with that, Ben burst into tears.

Roy just sat there, unsure what to say or do as he watched his son’s breakdown. It had been a hell of a day, for all of them. He thought, Hopefully tomorrow will be better and - hopefully - tomorrow he would get some more insight into this so-called “voice”. Slowly he got up from his seat and walked over to his son. Without further words, for now at least, he leaned down and hugged him. Whilst doing so, Roy frowned at himself as he tried to remember the last time he and his son had cuddled.

Chapter Eleven

It was close to midnight. Ben had been in bed for two hours but not slept a wink. As he laid there, he stared at the ceiling with his mind stuck on thoughts of Sammie. It was his first night of not having Sammie with him, or even in the house. The house felt cold and empty without him. Worse, it felt unwelcoming.

Even though Ben felt alone, he wasn’t truly by himself. The voice was still present, whispering to him like a record which never stopped spinning. Why won’t you listen to me? I know you can hear me. If you couldn’t, you wouldn’t have tried to pull me out, or you wouldn’t have told your dad about me. You realise he thinks you’re insane now, don’t you? And yet, none of this has to be that hard. We could be friends, if you’d just give us a chance. We could get along like a house on fire but, no… You try and make out that I don’t exist. It’s hurtful. It’s also weird too because I’ve told you time and time again that, if you want me gone, all you have to do is just one thing that I ask you. One thing and I’ll leave you alone forever and ever and ever and ever. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything now. Now we sleep. But tomorrow… I think we should definitely play together, don’t you? You never know, it might make you feel better…

Ben was distracted from the thoughts by movement behind his bedroom door. He quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as the door was quietly pushed open. With his eyes closed tight, Ben didn’t know which of his parents came to check in on him but, it was nice that they at least did so.

The voice whispered, they’re only making sure you aren’t setting the house on fire. They’re not checking up on you as such. They just don’t want to be burned to death in their sleep. Mind you, it would be pretty fun to play with some matches right about now, don’t you think? I love how they smell when you strike them and let them burn out… We should get some matches.

Ben thought, Leave me alone.

Speaking of matches, what do you think they did with Sammie? Buried or cremated?

Chapter Twelve

Is it better to know you’re in a dream and know that it won’t last forever, or to think you’re living your life “normally” only to then wake up and discover it had been a dream?

Sitting in the middle of the meadow, with the blazing sun beating down on him, Ben knew this was a dream. He wished it had been his reality. The voice in his head was quiet and Sammie was stretched out next to him, bathing himself in the sun’s rays. For the first time in as long as he could recall, he felt normal.

Ben laid back down on the grass and idly stroked Sammie’s warm fur as his own eyes scanned the few clouds pillowing the blue sky. From the clouds, and his quiet imagination, he picked images out; a flower, a sheep, a fish swimming through the blue… Ben smiled. Was this how everyone else felt on a daily basis? Was this what Ben was missing out on, thanks to the ever-present voice chattering away in the back of his mind; detached from him and yet, still a part of him somehow.

In that moment, as he thought about how “normal” people lived their lives and experienced things, Ben couldn’t help but to feel a pang of jealousy to go with his wish that this moment could last forever.

Wouldn’t life be easier if you just didn’t wake up?

Ben frowned. The thought wasn’t one of his own. It was the voice, back again and louder than before. In an attempt to push it from his mind, he concentrated on the clouds once again; a shoe, a severed head with spinal cord hanging from it, intestines…

*

Ben woke with a start and sat bolt upright. Nice dream turned to nightmare. He’d had nightmares before of course but, this was the first time he had woken from one without Sammie being close by.

For a moment, he stayed sat upright as he continued to get used to the cold, loneliness of reality once again.

I missed you.

‘Why can’t you leave me alone?’

I’ve already said, I’ll leave you alone if you do just one thing for me. Well, for us. You think I am being cruel to you but I’m not. I know that your life will be infinitely better if you do what I tell you to. I’ve only got your best interests at heart… You do know that, right?

‘What do you want me to do now?’

Well, nothing yet. Give me a second. I’ve only just woken up. The voice laughed. But do you remember what I said in the dream? Like would be easier if you just didn’t wake up?

‘Yes.’

Surely we can both agree on that, can’t we?

‘Yes.’

Good. How’s about taking a handful of pills? Take enough of them and you’ll be able to sleep forever…

‘I’m not going to kill myself.’

Sammie’s waiting for you. You want to see Sammie again, don’t you?

‘Yes.’

That’s how you do it. Take the pills. Close your eyes and peacefully drift off to sleep.

‘I won’t do it.’

At least think about it?

Ben didn’t answer. He laid back down and rolled onto his side. His eyes drifted to the dark shadows in the corner of the room. His imagination used the very same shadows to give the voice a face as ugly as the orders he gave.

Ben closed his eyes and wished for morning.

Chapter Thirteen

Ben was surprised to wake up a little after nine in the morning. It being a school day, his mother usually woke him around seven. In doing so, it gave him enough time to get ready and have some breakfast. Alice would then drive him to school and Roy would go in the opposite direction, to his office.

In his “just woken” brain-fog, he almost convinced himself it was the weekend so, no school. When he remembered that it was only Wednesday, he threw his dressing gown on and went to find out why he hadn’t been woken and taken in.

Ben could hear Alice and Roy’s voices as they spoke to one another down in the kitchen. He stopped moving at the mention of his name and listened from the top of the stairs.

‘I can take a couple of days from the office as there are some bits I can do from home but, I need to be back by Friday as I have a meeting,’ Alice said.

‘I’m closing an account on Friday so don’t look at me. What about your sister? Think she’ll be able to step in and look after him?’

‘I haven’t told her what happened. She already thinks he is strange.’

‘Well, you don’t have to tell her the truth, do you? Can just say he has a bug…’

‘Then she definitely won’t help because she won’t want to catch it and pass it onto her family.’

‘Well given what he did yesterday, and what he told me in the evening,’ Roy explained, ‘I think it is fair to say he definitely cannot be left on his own.’

‘Even if yesterday hadn’t happened, he’s too young for that…’

‘Then maybe he should go back to school?’

‘The school have clearly shown they don’t know how to handle him so…’

Roy interrupted, ‘He has to go back at some point.’

‘Yes but not yet. It’s too soon. Only yesterday, your son was stabbing at his ears with a compass!’

‘Yes! I know! It’s not like I can forget something like that, is it?’

‘We need to be here for him at the moment.’

‘I am here.’

Alice sighed. ‘Maybe we should have got him a counsellor when he first started talking about cancer? We shouldn’t have waited for the hospital to sort it out for us. Makes us look bad…’

‘Because that’s the issue here? That we look like bad parents?’

‘That’s not exactly what I meant but, fine… I’m just… I just don’t know what to do anymore. I look at him and don’t recognise the boy looking back at me and, if I am being honest with myself, it has been like that for a while now! He needs help.’

‘And yesterday’s cry has got that “help” set in motion, has it not? In the meantime, we just need to be here for him and try and support him, even if we don’t understand what is happening.’

The voice snuck into their conversation and whispered, If you had taken those pills last night - they wouldn’t be having to have this conversation. They’d be getting on with their day. They’d have none of this stress…

Ben quietly crept back into his bedroom. Whilst the voice was wrong about it being a “good idea” for him to take the pills and kill himself, the voice was right that his mum and dad shouldn’t be having conversations like this about him. Not when they had their own stresses to deal with. He didn’t want to make things worse for them so… Ben started to get dressed for school. The voice made no attempt to interrupt him as it knew, at school, there were more chances of getting Ben to do something “fun”.

Chapter Fourteen

Alice and Ben were sitting next to one another. There was a large office desk in front of them. On the other side of that the school’s Headmaster, Mr. Fitzpatrick sat.

It was a little after ten in the morning. Ben had got dressed for school and then gone down to his parents, who were still discussing him in the kitchen. He’d told them he’d heard them talking about him and, he had made it clear he was not only ready to go back to school but that he wanted to. Alice wasn’t so sure, but Roy shrugged. The last thing Roy wanted was to pull Ben away from any kind of routine that he had, especially if Ben didn’t want that. If he wanted to go back to school then, he should be allowed. It wasn’t as though the doctors said that he couldn’t go back. They were only keeping him home because they thought he might need a few days to get over both the incident and the loss of the family dog. Roy convinced Alice that Ben should go back to class if that was what he wanted but, instead of agreeing outright, Alice said she’d talk to the Head first. If Ben was going to be going to that school then she wanted safeguards put in place to stop that kind of thing from happening again. Roy didn’t argue with her. Instead, he actually offered to go with the pair of them and talk to the Head with her but, she refused. She didn’t make any such comment but in her head, she was thinking about how she’d dealt with everything else so - this would have been a walk in the park in comparison.

And here they were.

Mr. Fitzpatrick had a file opened out in front of him. The pages within were notes on Ben, covering both his schoolwork progress and what he was like as an individual. None of it made for outstanding reading but, neither did it read as a horror story either. With the exception of being bullied from time to time, and the incident yesterday - he was, apparently, an average student who might be capable of more if only he’d apply himself further.

After a quick scan of the first pages of notes, Mr. Fitzpatrick closed the folder and pushed it a few centimetres away from himself; an over dramatic gesture to show he was done with the notes. He sat there a moment and then asked, ‘And how do you feel now?’

Ben lied, ‘I feel fine.’

Ben wanted to go back to school because he didn’t want to be a “problem” to his parents. Having heard them struggling with organising his childcare, he knew it would be easier if he just went back to class. It was also easier to distract himself from his cancer whilst being in class too. Yes, he still heard the voice but - at home - it felt like it was so much louder.

‘We’re going to need to talk about yesterday,’ Mr. Fitzpatrick said. ‘Is that okay?’

Ben nodded. ‘I guess.’

‘You see, that behaviour isn’t normal, nor what we would expect from our students. Do you understand that?’

‘Yes. And I am sorry.’

‘Why did you feel the need to… do it?’

Ben had been expecting this question and he knew it wouldn’t look good if he told the truth so, he had a lie prepared, ‘They say things about my ears…’

‘They?’

‘The other pupils. I don’t know why I… I was just angry. Maybe if I damaged them, I might have been able to get surgery, or something, to make them look better? I… I don’t know,’ he said. He realised it was a ridiculous lie to say - the surgery part at least. The first part, about being bullied, was perfectly believable.

From the corner of his eye, Ben could see that Alice was looking at him. She didn’t say anything though. Ben guessed she preferred the lie to the truth too as, stupid as it was, at least it was more “normal”. The lie also shifted some of the focus back to the other children too; a reminder that - despite how things may appear from the outside, looking in - no one was as perfect as they pretended to be.

Alice turned her attention to Mr. Fitzpatrick and asked, ‘So what about the children who are bullying him? What happens to them?’

‘Have you told any of the teachers about what the other classmates say to you?’

‘No. I don’t want to make it worse.’ He explained, ‘But I do my best to stay out of their way. I spend my lunchbreaks in the quiet room and get on with my homework…  I purposefully hang back so I don’t bump into them…’

It broke Alice’s heart to hear this from Ben. She knew he didn’t have many friends, but she didn’t realise he was being picked on, or - at the very least - hiding away from the other students.

‘We take a dim view of bullying,’ Mr. Fitzpatrick assured them both. ‘If you’re being bullied by other students then you need to let us know so that we can act accordingly. But… Putting that aside for a minute… The compass…’

‘I was angry, and it was stupid,’ Ben said, before Mr. Fitzpatrick could give his (similar) thoughts. ‘I won’t do it again and, I am sorry for doing it in the first place.’

Mr. Fitzpatrick leaned back in his chair. He really wasn’t sure that it was a good idea to have Ben back to class so soon but, from all that he was saying, he seemed pretty adamant about wanting to come back. The initial reason given being that he found classes hard enough and he didn’t want to fall behind.

Mr. Fitzpatrick said, ‘Would you mind stepping outside for a minute so that I can have a chat with your mother?’

Ben hesitated a moment and then, with a nod, he got up and quietly left the room, leaving the adults to have their “private” conversation.

Chapter Fifteen

The voice was never far away. Even if other people were talking, drowning it out, it was always close by - ready with an opinion, or suggestion, the moment the other parties took a break. It was no different now. As Ben sat and waited in the corridor outside of Mr. Fitzpatrick’s office, the voice continually dripped its toxic poison.

They’re talking about you. None of what they’re saying is any good either. That’s why you had to leave the room. If it were good things, they would have let you stay. You realise that don’t you? Everyone is talking about you… Even your classmates now… They’re in class, whispering to one another about how much of a fuck up you are. They’re laughing at you, mocking you, doing grotesque impressions of you. What are you doing about it? Nothing. You’re just sitting here and letting it happen. Don’t worry, I’m not going to moan at you. I think this is the perfect thing to do. I think you should sit there and let it happen around you. Do nothing…

As an “up yours” to the internal monologue droning on in his head, Ben stood up and started to pace the corridor from one side to the other and back again. The voice laughed at Ben’s attempt to prove he was still not doing what the voice asked for him.

Too bad, the voice continued, perhaps I would have left you alone had you done that one thing I asked. You do nothing, which is what I said. I leave you in peace. But, no, you have to try and be clever about it. I’m not entirely sure what you think you’re proving with all this but - hey - so long as you’re happy. That’s the important thing and all I’ve ever wanted, your happiness.

Ben stopped his pacing when the voice’s last word echoed off, leaving him with nothing but his own thoughts and a welcome, silent break which the voice had once filled. The “welcome” silence wasn’t welcome for long as Ben’s own tired mind filled it, questioning what they could possibly be talking about on the other side of that door. The more he thought about their conversation, the worse he imagined it to be too but - in reality - it wasn’t actually that bad.

Mr. Fitzpatrick was letting Alice know that the teachers would be keeping more of an eye on Ben for her peace of mind and Ben’s own safety. He told her that they’d be subtle about it, so as to not give the impression Ben was getting special treatment in front of the other children, especially if he was already being subjected to bullying. On the subject of the bullying, Mr. Fitzpatrick also let Alice know they’d be keeping more of an eye out for that too. He reassured her that, whenever it was seen, it would always be stopped and that the strictest of punishments would be administered to those doing the bullying; Saturday detention to start with and going all the way up to suspension if the lesson wasn’t learned. In extreme cases, Mr. Fitzpatrick also stated he had no qualms with expelling students too.

Mr. Fitzpatrick was saying all of the right things but, none of it really brought Alice any peace of mind. Roy had told her what Ben had said about the voice in his head, soon after Ben had gone to bed the previous night. Whilst Roy couldn’t get what the voice was saying from Ben, he did at least learn that it wasn’t “good” and - for a parent - that was never comforting to hear from their children. Now, as Alice sat there, she felt herself facing a dilemma. On the one hand, she could say nothing and hope that it simply went away and that would be the end of it. On the other hand, she could warn Mr. Fitzpatrick what Ben had said. It could be something else for the staff to look out for and - of course - she could reassure him that they would be letting the counsellor know about this, as soon as the appointment came through from the hospital.

Alice chose to say nothing. Whilst Ben hadn’t hurt anyone but himself and had shown them no signs he was going to - people naturally worried when they heard that someone might be hearing a strange voice in their head. There were too many horror stories about these voices telling those who heard them to kill someone and, that person then listening to it and acting out the voice’s wish. How many serial killers had tried that defence over the years? The voices made me do it. Even though many of them were unsuccessfully going for the plea of insanity, it still stuck home that people did hear voices in their head and did act upon what the voices instructed. Alice worried that if she made the declaration about her son’s mental wellbeing now, on the back of the compass incident, he wouldn’t be allowed to return to this particular school.

Mr. Fitzpatrick asked, ‘How does all of that sound?’

Alice smiled politely. ‘It sounds as though it is a good start.’

‘And, of course, if there’s anything happening at home that you think we might need to know about…’

‘Other than having had the family dog put down yesterday, home life has been fine.’

‘Sorry to hear about the dog. Never nice.’

‘No. It’s not. And then to get a call that your son is stabbing himself in the ear with a compass… I’d sooner forget yesterda ever happened.’

‘Well let’s see if we can turn a page and get moving in the right direction, shall we?’

Alice smiled again. It was nice to see Mr. Fitzpatrick was confident but, deep down, she didn’t feel the same level of confidence. She wished she could and yet, as she went to leave the school, she couldn’t help but feel a deep-set sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. A worry that yesterday was just the start of a new chapter and, today was the calm before the inevitable storm.

Chapter Sixteen

Ben laughed as his classmates screamed. Jonathan was clawing at the floor, trying to drag himself away from where Ben was standing with his own chair raised high above his head.

Ben screamed, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ It was a rhetorical question and, as such, he gave no pause for an answer. With another scream of pure rage, he brought the chair down on Jonathan’s back. It was the second time he’d hit him. The first; he’d swung the chair from behind Jonathan and had cracked it across the back of his skull. Jonathan slumped to the floor and landed in a crumpled heap with a cry of pain. Whilst the sound of agony was music to Ben’s ears, he still couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the blow hadn’t knocked Jonathan out.

‘Put that chair down!’ Mrs. Greenfield yelled.

Ben turned his attention to her, as rage continued to burn in his eyes. A sadistic smile stretched from one cheek to the other as the laughing voice in his head told him, Give it to her.

Ben launched the chair at his teacher who only just ducked out of its flight path before it hit her. With Ben unarmed, some of his classmates seized the opportunity to run for the door. He didn’t care. Most of them were free to go as, although they weren’t exactly his friends, they’d not actually done anything wrong to him.

Not like Jonathan.

Mrs. Greenfield screamed to the fleeing students, ‘Get the Head!’ She would have run for herself but, given Ben was between her and the door, she didn’t know what he’d do; certainly not after he’d launched a fucking chair at her anyway.

Ben’s attention had shifted back to Jonathan who was whimpering in a curled ball of pain. Without so much as a word, Ben rolled Jonathan onto his back before he sat himself down on the crying classmate’s chest. Still in silence, he put his hands against either side of Jonathan’s head. He stretched his thumbs over to his eyes and - he dug them into the sockets, pushing back the eyeballs in the process as Jonathan’s screamed echoed through the school.

Do it, the voice urged him and…

… Ben opened his eyes. He was sitting in his usual seat. The class was studying as they always did. The teacher, standing at the front of the room talking - not that Ben heard the words. All he was hearing was how he should run across the room and smack seven shades of shit out of Jonathan. Words he’d tried to block out by closing his eyes and wishing himself someplace else but, instead, just getting to picture the words play out for real. That was why he opened his eyes. With his eyes open, the world was normal. The voice continued telling him to kick off but, at least he wasn’t seeing it happen too.

Jonathan had prompted the voice’s onslaught of suggestions by taunting Ben the moment he walked back into the classroom. As the Head went and had a conversation with Mrs. Greenfield, Jonathan had asked Ben how his dog was. He knew full well the dog was dead and, he suspected that it was that which had caused yesterday’s episode in the bathroom; something which Jonathan and his friends found to be highly amusing.

Ben hadn’t answered Jonathan. Instead, he’d gone and taken his seat. From there, he watched as the Head and his teacher spoke. He didn’t care about what was being said, as he knew it was mostly about him, but it was better to focus on them than the rest of the class. He could feel all eyes on him, once again.

Chapter Seventeen

You hate me, don’t you? Yet, really, what have I done to you exactly? I’ve done nothing. I’ve just tried talking to you, which is more than can be said for the other people in this room.

It was lunchtime. Ben was sitting in the cafeteria. He’d opted for the table closest to where the teacher’s sat because he felt safer there. No one would come and hassle him within their earshot as it would almost certainly guarantee them a detention. Even Jonathan wasn’t that stupid, although sometimes Ben did question such a thought.

Yet, saying that, I guess there is a part of you which does like hearing from me. Time and time again I’ve said that I’d leave you alone if you’d just do one thing for me. One thing and I’ll go and yet, you never do it. That in itself tells me that - deep down - you want me to stay.

Ben said nothing. Instead, he sat there and quietly ate the fish and chips the school had cooked for today. The school’s food wasn’t as bad as some of the other schools in town but, it wasn’t exactly the best either. The oven chips were usually undercooked by a couple of minutes and the battered fish was of such a size that it could have only been someone’s pet goldfish buried under the batter.

Do people really care about the food? Why are you ignoring me? You’re hoping I will get bored and leave you be? Stop pushing me away. I’m your only friend. I know it. You know it. Especially now that Sammie’s gone. You’ve got no one but me looking out for you now so, stop trying to put distance between us and…

Ben looked around the room in the hope of finding something visually interesting enough to distract from his thoughts. All he found were that all eyes were - once again - on him. Students sitting here and there with most of them occasionally looking in his direction before they then whispered something to their friends.

Ben looked back down to his plate.

What did you expect? You made a fool of yourself yesterday. You’ll be the talk of the school for at least the rest of the term. Unless… If you want it all to stop then all you need to do is… Make them fear you. If they’re scared of you then, they won’t talk shit about you anymore. They won’t look at you. They’ll leave you well alone but then, you already know that. I’ll even wager that a part of you wants to do it too but… You won’t do it because it was me who suggested it and, you’re the big boy in charge now, right? You’re only making yourself suffer.

‘Stop it!’ Ben snapped. Immediately he regretted speaking out. He looked up and - sure enough - some students were staring at him like he had a second head. They suddenly burst out laughing before whispering between themselves once more.

Feeling stupid, Ben turned back to the teachers. They weren’t paying any attention but then - why be surprised? Despite Mr. Fitzpatrick’s words, Ben knew that - really - nothing would change.

Unable to take the eyes on him anymore, Ben got up. He took his tray to the “clean-up” section, where one of the staff-members working the cafeteria took it from him, and - with that done - he promptly left the room. Quickly, he hurried towards the bathrooms. There he would stay until the bell rung through once more, signalling the end of the lunch period and beginning of afternoon lessons.

Chapter Eighteen

Alice had purposely stayed home from work. They’d been expecting her to take a day off, after she told them about the “accident” with Ben, so there was no point in calling them up to say it wasn’t needed after all. Anyway, she wasn’t convinced it was a good idea to have him go to school so, at least by being at home, she was close enough to go and get him if there were any more issues. If there weren’t issues? She’d get a day off for herself, to try and de-stress from the previous day’s events.

Just as Ben had noticed Sammie’s absence, so too did Alice feel it. Without the dog pacing around or lazing on the floor close to the living room sofa, it just didn’t  seem right. Sammie had been such a big part of their lives that he’d left behind a large, black hole of “nothingness” and whilst Alice liked the quiet of being alone - with no new stresses introduced to already burdened shoulders, she still found herself counting down the hours until Ben got in from school.

When Alice had taken Ben to school that morning, Roy had said he would be able to pick him up. He had a meeting at that side of the town, which was due to finish at the same time, so it was just as easy for him to swing-by. Alice had been grateful, given it meant she didn’t have to sit in rush hour each way that afternoon, but - as the day went on - she found herself wishing she’d told him not to worry and that she’d go and collect him anyway. Whilst the traffic was never fun, with all driving parent’s fighting for the same road-space, it would have still been a welcome distraction from her own thoughts and, an escape from the quiet of the still house.

So quiet was the house that Alice’s heart skipped a beat when the front door finally did open again, and Ben and her husband came in. She walked from living room to hallway in order to greet them.

‘Hey! How was school?’ she asked Ben.

Ben shrugged. ‘Fine.’

Without stopping for further conversation, he started up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

Alice called out, ‘Dinner’s about twenty minutes away.’

Ben didn’t answer. A second later and his bedroom door closed.

‘How’s he been?’ Alice asked Roy.

Roy kicked his shoes off and hung his jacket on a peg close to the front door. He shrugged and admitted, ‘Not really said anything.’ He asked, ‘Did you get the doctors?’

After Ben’s admission about the voices the previous day, Alice had said she would call the doctors to tell them. The hope was that it would prompt the counsellor to get in touch sooner than they would have done if left to their own devices. The sooner they could get an appointment, the sooner a professional could - hopefully - tell them what was going on with their son and, better yet, how they can “fix it”.

‘I couldn’t speak to a doctor, but the receptionist said they would pass the message on so - hopefully they’ve done that.’

Roy shook his head. When he was growing up, if there was a problem then his mother would phone the doctors and - half the time - an appointment would be made the very same day. Worst case scenario? The doctor would see him the following morning. Nowadays though, it was practically impossible to speak to a GP. They’d always use “cost-cuttings” as one of their excuses? The other excuse? The pandemic and Covid-19. The whole damn country came to a halt when the pandemic hit, as did the rest of the world too. Now the strain had weakened though, and the world opened back up, Roy had foolishly believed everything would return to “normal” but, no. Sorry, we don’t have any appointments right now because of Covid. Yet speak to someone with the virus? They either admitted to not contacting the doctors or were told there wasn’t anything the doctor could do for them and that they should just rest up and take paracetamol. Such declaration from those who’d contracted it made Roy question repeatedly, then why in the fuck are the doctors too busy to see patients if they’re not actually dealing with covid?

Instead of opening that can of worms, Roy just said, ‘Might be worth calling them again tomorrow if we don’t hear back. Just make sure the message was passed on.’

‘I’ll give them tomorrow and chase the day after,’ Alice said. In her head, the doctor would get the message today and then - tomorrow - they’d make any calls but, those calls could come at any time so, best give them a full day before she chased.

Roy wasn’t as vocal about it but, he was just as worried about Ben as his wife was. What frustrated him though was that, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t get any more out of Ben. He’d tried to talk to him in the car, on the way back from school, but it was like Ben had simply shut down. Worse than that; when Roy questioned him about it, Ben shifted uncomfortably in his seat like he was regretting saying anything in the first place. The last thing Roy, or Alice for that matter, needed now was for Ben to withdraw into himself and shut everyone out. With things in the open, there’d be a chance to fix things. Shut down and, everything stays shut and - worse - continues to fester away right up to the point where he’d explode again. Roy knew he couldn’t let it get to that stage again and yet, he also knew he couldn’t push. When Ben talked, it would be because he wanted to. All Roy could do was be there for him but, at the moment, that was easier said than done.

Roy said, ‘I’ll try and talk to him later too. Let him unwind from school and… I don’t know. Maybe suggest a family night? Let him choose a film? Chat first, film second?’ He shrugged. He had no idea. There weren’t any “parenting” books on this.

Alice forced a smile. ‘Sounds good.’

Roy shrugged again. He didn’t know if it sounded “good” but, it was all he had at the moment.

Chapter Nineteen

Ben was on his bed. His head was buried into the pillow which he’d also pulled up around his ears in an effort to block the voice out. It hadn’t worked. All he’d done was block every other noise out which, in turn, amplified the voice.

All day the voice had been getting louder in his head, to the point of effectively screaming in Ben’s tormented ear. Now, buried face first in the pillow, it was louder still.

When Ben realised his efforts to drown it out were to no avail, he rolled onto his back and then sat up. Frustrated, he jumped off the bed and walked across the bedroom floor, over to his television. He leaned to the on-switch and pressed it. A second later, the television’s screen lit up with some jerk-off presenter talking smugly to a contestant on whichever channel Ben had been watching last.

It didn’t matter what was on. All that mattered was how loud it would go. Ben turned the television up until it could go no louder. He sat back and smiled. The presenter’s booming voice hadn’t drowned the inner voice out entirely but, it had certainly helped to mute it a little. For the briefest of moments, Ben found some peace.

The briefest of moments.

The door opened. Roy was standing there with a frustrated look on his face. He pointed to the television and yelled over the noise, ‘Turn it down!’

When Ben didn’t move to do as he was told, Roy stormed over to the television and turned it off.

I SAID, HIT HIM! The voice shouted over the sudden silence.

‘What were you thinking?’ Roy asked. He paused when he remembered what his son had admitted to yesterday; the reason he had been scraping in his ears with a compass. ‘The voice?’

Ben hesitated. He didn’t want to admit the voice was there. He wanted to rewind to the previous day and take back the time he’d said about it in the first instance. When he realised the impossibility of this, he nodded.

‘And what is it saying?’

Tell him. See if I care. Tell him that I think you should hit him and that I’ve been saying that from the moment he picked you up from school. Tell him and see what he says. You never know, if he thinks it will help our relationship, he might actually tell you that you’re welcome to take a swing. I wonder, if he does say that… Will you go through with it? Or will you refuse him like you refuse me?

Ben shrugged to his dad.

‘You can tell me,’ Roy said. ‘Whatever it is saying, I want to know.’

‘I don’t know what it is saying.’

Sorry, did you want me to shout for you?

‘You don’t know what it’s saying?’ Roy asked.

‘No.’ Ben lied, ‘It doesn’t make sense. It’s just noise.’

‘Noise?’

Ben nodded.

‘You would tell me if you could understand it, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you ever understood it?’

Ben shook his head. ‘No.’

Whilst it didn’t please Roy to know his son was hearing “voices”, it did ease his mind to know that he wasn’t hearing anything specific from them. He’d seen documentaries and watched News reports about schizophrenic patients hearing “demons” who were instructing them to do “bad things”. When Ben first mentioned hearing voices, that was exactly what Roy had pictured for his son too. That being said, he didn’t want “anything” chattering away in his boy’s head. Especially given how upsetting Ben was finding it.

‘That’s good then.’

Coward. What’s the matter? You think daddy won’t love you anymore if you tell him the truth? Maybe it would shock you now to know that - actually - daddy doesn’t love you anyway. You think he was happy when they found out you were floating in dear, old mummy? Of course, they weren’t. If they were, don’t you think you’d have a brother or sister to play with? The voice laughed. Mind you, a sister to play with would have been fun, don’t you think?

‘I want to be left alone,’ Ben said in a blanket statement which could have been directed to both his dad and the ever-present voice.

‘I’m trying to help you,’ Roy said. The more he could understand about his son’s “condition”, the more he could report back to the doctor who, in turn, could look to understanding why it was happening and how it could be stopped.

From downstairs, Alice called up, ‘Dinner’s ready…’

Chapter Twenty

It was becoming a regular occurrence; watching Ben push his food around his plate, without eating any of it. Neither Roy nor Alice said anything though as, they weren’t hungry either.

It was another dinner of near silence. Occasionally Alice tried to make small conversation (she asked how Roy’s day was and his plans for the rest of the week) but, the chat soon dried up to nothing again with the only constant voice being unheard to all, except Ben.

From time-to-time Roy would look at his son and try to figure out if Ben was hearing anything in that particular moment. It did nothing other than to aggravate Roy as, he wanted to know but knew - in reality - he never could. Not for sure anyway. Something else which bothered Roy was what Alice had said earlier, about calling the doctors in a couple of days as - she wanted to give them the chance to call tomorrow. Given it was their son’s mental health in question, he didn’t want to give them the chance. He wanted to call and call and call, until he got the answers they needed to stop Ben from hearing whatever noises were going on inside his head. From dealing with the National Health Service himself, for a hernia operation, he knew they could be waiting for months before they’d even reach out to let the family know they were looking at possible appointments for Ben. Fuck that. He wanted an appointment this week, come rain or shine.

Roy said, ‘Your mum called the doctor today. See if we can get that appointment with the counsellor.’ He explained, ‘Hopefully they’ll be able to make you feel better.’ He asked, ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

Ben nodded but said nothing.

Roy seized the opportunity to push Alice into calling the surgery back first thing in the morning. ‘She’s going to call them again tomorrow morning.’ He glanced to his wife and asked, ‘Isn’t that right?’

Alice saw what Roy had done but chose not to say anything. With all that the family had gone through, now was not the time for a fight. She nodded and smiled. ‘That’s right.’

Roy kept her eye-contact for a moment and then smiled too, satisfied he’d got the message through to her. He turned back to his son. ‘When you talk to the counsellor, did you want me to come in with you?’

Ben went to say something and then stopped. He looked up from the plate of food that he’d been staring at and turned to his dad and admitted, ‘I don’t need to talk to anyone though.’

‘You don’t?’

Ben shook his head. ‘No.’

‘What about the voices?’

There was a slight delay before a smile spread across Ben’s face. ‘I can make it go away myself.’

‘You can?’

He nodded.

‘He’s been telling me all along. If I do just one thing for him, he will leave me in peace.’

Roy couldn’t hide his confusion. ‘I thought you said you didn’t understand what the voice was saying?’

‘I know I said that.’

‘So you can understand it?’

Ben nodded.

‘And it’s saying if you do one thing, it will leave you alone?’

He nodded again.

Roy was almost afraid to ask but, he knew he had to, ‘So what it is asking you to do? If it’s nothing too bad then, maybe try and do what it says and see if it does leave you alone?’

‘I’m not sure that’s right,’ Alice said, uncomfortable with Roy potentially suggesting that the “voice” was something worth listening to. Like her husband, she too had seen documentaries, and such, about people who heard voices in their heads. None of them had a happy ending.

To shut her up, Roy shot her a look as though to say, It’s okay. I got this.

‘So what does the voice tell you to do?’ Roy asked.

Chapter Twenty-One

Ben walked to the front of the class. He carried the heavy sports bag with him and - with effort - put it up on the teacher’s desk. Then, he turned to the rest of the class. Once again, all eyes were on him, but it was different this time. It was Show and Tell and they were supposed to be looking at him.

Show and Tell was something which the teacher did most days. The point of the short sessions, at the start of each day, was to give the children confidence in public speaking. It also encouraged the watching classmates to ask questions which might not have been asked before and gave them something to talk about with one another; the latter point being something which helped form friendships too.

In his time at the school, until today, Ben had never actually stepped forward and offered to “show” and “tell” anything. Instead, he watched his classmates do it and quietly retreated further back into himself, refusing even to ask questions about what they were showing.

Mrs. Greenfield was sitting at the back of the class and was genuinely surprised when Ben volunteered to “go next” but, she was also happy about it. To her, this was progress.

The rest of the class was excited about what Ben was going to do next too, albeit for different reasons. In their cruel minds, they were hoping he was going to mess up and give them something else to laugh about. Jonathan in particular was paying close attention, even leaning forward in his seat as though such a gesture would stop him from missing anything.

Ben said, ‘I’ve been fairly quiet for most of my life because I’ve been scared about what others would think of me. For as long as I can remember, I have always had this inner voice telling me not to scared and to just do what I want, and I always tried to ignore it because I didn’t want people looking at me weirdly.’

In an effort to distract Ben, Jonathan crossed his eyes and pushed his tongue against the bottom of his lip, which caused it to jut out. He made no noise and just waited for Ben to notice him.

Ben continued, ‘Last night I realised that by not doing what I was told, nothing will ever change. I’d always be a shadow and I would never be happy so - I decided to just go along with what my inner voice said…’ He paused a moment as he thought back to the previous night. What actually happened was that - he finally snapped. He acted out, just like the voice said, in the hope that the voice would leave him alone but, it didn’t. It carried on shouting in the forefront of his mind but with a slight difference. The voice now sounded as though it were him speaking which, in turn, made him feel more “at ease” with it. Still, whilst the result was “good” for Ben, he knew the story he was spinning to his classmates was more “inspiring”. He could tell as much just from the “proud” look on Mrs. Greenfield’s face.

Ben said, ‘What I’ve brought here to show you will hopefully inspire others to do the same too; to listen to their inner-voice and not be scared of it anymore because, we shouldn’t hear what is essentially “us”. We should trust ourselves and our instincts and go along with it because, the only people we’re hurting are ourselves…’ He smiled. ‘I already feel better and if you start trusting in yourselves more, you will too… Even those of you who pretend that everything is okay and that you’re happy and…’ He stopped when he finally noticed the look on Jonathan’s face.

Jonathan tried to hold the face for as long as possible but, with Ben’s eyes finally on him, he cracked and couldn’t help but to laugh. Some of his classmates laughed along with him too, not that they knew the reason why as they’d not seen his face-pulling.

Had this been a normal day with the “old” Ben standing in front of him, Ben would have made a hasty retreat back to his seat and - then - retreated back into himself in the hope they’d stop laughing. This wasn’t a normal day though. This was the start of Ben’s new life.

Ben smiled wider. ‘Would you like to come up and help me with the bag, Jonathan?’

Chapter Twenty-Two

LAST NIGHT

Sitting at the dinner table, looking at his son, Roy asked, ’So what does the voice tell you to do?’

‘STOP ASKING ME THAT!’ Ben snapped as, inside, the voice laughed at the sudden outburst of temper.

The voice pushed him further, You know he is only going to keep asking day in and day out, all the time I am here with you. If you want me to stop then - just do one thing for me and I’ll leave you be. I promise. It really isn’t hard.

Roy continued, ‘If we’re to understand, and help you, then we really need to know and telling me to “shut up” won’t do anything but get you a tanned backside…’ Despite Roy’s best intentions - and efforts - he was unable to hide his frustration, just as Ben was unable to hide his. The only difference between the two of them was that Roy still had an ounce of self-control.

Want me to go? You know what to do. Grab that knife and stick it in his fucking neck. It’s no less than what he deserves; the noisy little cunt… Do that and I’ll leave you alone and - I promise - he will too!

Half to his father and half to his cancer, Ben screamed, ‘Just leave me alone!’ And, with that, he jumped up from his chair and thrust forward with the knife, sticking it straight into his father’s neck in the process. With a knife in him, Roy’s frustrated look immediately turned to one of sheer shock as Alice screamed from her seat. She ran over to Roy’s side as Ben took a few steps back.

Unsure what to do for the best, Alice foolishly pulled the knife from Roy’s neck. A squirt of blood spat violently from the wound which caused both victim and helper to panic further.

Ben started to laugh as he watched the mayhem.

See, didn’t I always tell you I’d make you feel better? All you had to do was listen to me. To us. Isn’t it nice, being able to laugh? Go on. Admit it. You’re having fun.

‘WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!’ Alice screamed. ‘Phone 999! Go and phone 999,’ she said as she slowed the fountain of claret by pushing her palm against the wound. ‘Phone them now!’

Want to have more fun? the voice teased.

Twenty-Three

SHOW AND TELL

With an air of cockiness about him which was obvious to all, Jonathan pulled the zipper open on the sports bag.

Ben addressed the rest of the class, ‘Can we give my beautiful assistant a round of applause?’ They laughed as Jonathan took a bow; ever the showman. Ben continued, ‘Now if you’d just like to empty the bag, we can continue…’

Jonathan looked out at the class as he blindly reached into the bag and - he frowned as his fingers touched upon the lips first. Still refusing to look inside, his fingers explored further and felt the jagged teeth between the lips…

‘Pull it out,’ Ben urged him.

Jonathan used both hands and - slowly - pulled out the cold, severed head of Ben’s mother. Ben laughed as Jonathan instantly dropped it to the desk with a heavy thud and the class burst into panicked screams. Jonathan also screamed as he continued staring at both the head and the blood on his hands. The difference between his scream and the other panicked cries was that Jonathan’s was cut short with the help of a kitchen knife sliced across his throat.

Jonathan fell to the floor as his warm blood spurted over the front row. Some students remained in their seats, stuck there with fear. Others ran for the door. And Ben… Ben slowly turned to them with the bloody knife still in his perfectly still hand.

The voice in his head - his voice in his head - calmly asked, So who’s next then?

Ben answered the voice by lunging for his nearest classmates. As his body slammed against the other boy’s, the pair of them dropped to the floor with Ben on top. In a series of quick movements, he sat bolt upright and immediately started to bring the knife’s pointed tip down on the screaming boy over and over again. The whole time, the voice kept laughing. See, I told you I could make you happy.

All you had to do was listen to me.