Noah Williams And The Voices

Part 1

 I awoke, as usual, to the sound of heart wrenching screams.

My heart was beating so fast that I was sure my heart was going to explode. I should have been used to this by now.

Sometimes the voices only murmured gently, barely audible, but present,

as they echoed around my head in a blurry fuzz.

Other times they were loud, almost ear-piercing, furious, accusing, distressed...

As I carefully tried to open my eyes, not knowing what to expect, I realised my forehead was covered in beads of an icy cold sweat and that my head ached after a sleepless night.

The sheets were freezing. My body hurt.

When I moved my legs a spasm of pins and needles rushed up them.

Come on Noah . Just open your eyes.

The patter of the rain on the old roof could be heard over the roar of the cars outside, on the main road. The sounds of my sisters and mother eating breakfast in the kitchen were only just audible. I could smell the sweet smell of pancakes, as well as bacon, scrambled egg and coffee.

Come on, Noah. Open your eyes, Noah.

"Noah?"

The voice at the door made my eyes flash open in a second, despite my reluctance.

I sat up abruptly in bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Noah, get up. We're going to be late for school if you don't hurry, you lazy bones!"

I glanced at the clock, my eye sight blurry after just opening my eyes. It was 7.00

"Noah!" The voice came again, angrily this time.

"O.K, O.K, I'm up. I'm getting up."

A pale beam of light was just beginning to filter through the blinds and

I could just distinguish my surroundings.

My schoolbooks lay across my desk, where I had left them before going to bed, and my school bag lay on my desk chair. The energy drink cans were scattered across my carpet, and my pile of dirty washing lay by my bedroom door. Nothing had changed. Nothing in my life had changed. I had woken up to the same boring, normal life that was my reality.

I tossed my black and white striped duvet to the side, and pulled myself out of the warm bed. Feeling around for my grey slippers with my bare toes, I arose, gave my alarm clock another brief stare of annoyance before padding silently across my large room, towards the chest of draws, that were covered in Star Wars, Harry Potter, Superman and Batman stickers, to pick out the clothes I was going to wear.

I yanked open a drawer, seized a pair of old jeans and a superman t-shirt and pulled them on after hastily pulling off my ripped blue pajamas. Then, I walked slowly into the bathroom, splashed my face with cold water, picked up my toothbrush and then, went over to the window, and looked out.

The sky was dappled with large clouds that hovered over the city, threatening to open and spill any time. I could see no sun. I groaned. It was going to be another gloomy day.

I breathed onto the window, causing it to fog up a little then

I lifted a shaky finger to the glass and began to trace a picture of a man's face onto the glass.

I drew him with short curly hair, wide eyes and a small nose.

When I had finished, I stepped back and studied it with a critical eye.

"No..." I muttered to myself, slightly irritated at the lack of perfection in my drawing,

"Some thing's missing..."

I thought for a moment then snapped my fingers. "That's it."

I reached over and drew a smile onto the man's face. He always smiled.

I stepped forward and leaned in as if I was going to kiss the face I had just drawn, and whispered,

"I still miss you!"

I will always be there, Noah. I love you. I will always love you.

"Noah! For goodness' sake, hurry UP!"

I quickly wiped out the picture, ran out the bathroom and into my room.

I grabbed my school books and stuffed them into my bag.

Then I ran out of the room, and down the stairs.

"You have to eat something." Noah's mum said as he entered the kitchen.

"I don't want to eat anything!" Noah grumbled, looking at the plate piled with fluffy pancakes, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Emma, my six year old sister, a bright, cheerful child with a mop of light nut brown coloured hair, chattered away amiably to no one in particular, while she stuffed syrupy pancakes into her mouth.

My other sister, who was a year older than me stood by the door already ready to leave for school.

Meanwhile my mother sat at the table, sipping at her coffee as she scrolled through her emails

on her phone. I poured myself some coffee, in a portable cup, grabbed an apple,

grabbed my lunch money which lay on the counter then hurried out the door,

just behind my sister, Olivia, who was already in an awful mood because we were running late.

That was the every day morning routine in the Williams household. I rarely had breakfast in the mornings, I could never make myself eat, and Olivia was always in a mood. Again, nothing had changed. Not that I had expected anything to. Every day just seemed to be the same. Maybe that was a good thing. Why even want a change, nothing was really that exciting or enjoyable in life anyway. The same boring routine was just fine.

We reached Greenwood Grove Elementary and Middle School, by bus, at eight thirty, just a few minutes before the first bell would ring to start the school day.

Running to my locker, I took out my English folder, before hurrying to my first class. As I sat down in my first class, I looked at the clock. Counting down the hours I could get away from this hell we called school. What was the point of an education? What was the point of anything anymore?

English class. Ugh! It was one particular lesson that I could never concentrate in. Mr. Slates was kind but he also had that sense of being over-protective and too eager to help like all the other teachers had when it came to me. Mr. Slates always made me sit in the front of the class so he could always have an easy access to my desk to help me with my studies and assignments.

I did not want his help. I did not want anyone's help. I just wanted to be left alone to work. I liked being on my own now. It always felt that people just felt sorry for me. I hated feeling that everybody just was worried or felt bad for me. I was fine.

"Good morning, class. Quiet down to begin with our creative writing activity in the text book." began Mr. Slates, "Girls, in the back, quite please, Now please open your exercise book to page thirty one."

I pulled out a few books and dropped them on my desk. Mr. Slates looked at me, with a sad smile. I looked down at my books, and flicked through to find the right page.

I glanced at my watch. It was 8:20. Monday. Only four days till the weekend, I thought.

Then I would be free of school. That is all I looked foreword to now. The weekend. The time I could visit him and spend time alone. I just liked to be alone.