Voices

c h a p t e r 1 0 : p a i n

S a m

"And the voices will get loud. If you never learn to shut them out." - Young Blood, Bea Miller

It's too much.

Too many, too loud.

They won't stop, no matter how many times I tell them.

No matter what I do.

No matter.

It's getting worse.

Stop, please stop.

It's driving me crazy.

They are getting loud, louder, loudest.

They're not going away.

Why?

Why not?

*

Why?

Why did I do that?

Why did I tell Lou about her?

Why do you think, Sam?

Isn't it obvious?

No, stop. Stop. Don't say anything.

She reminds you of Lily.

I look around the shop, spotting a shelf full of books strewn all over the place in the next aisle. I make a beeline towards them, placing them back on the bookshelves, smoothing out any folded or creased pages and covers, arranging them in alphabetical order based on their authors.

I glance at the clock. It's just half past two. I let out a tired sigh, starting to feel dizzy. My head starts to pound ever so slightly but I shrug it off. It's nothing big. I head towards the front of the shop, towards where the cash register is.

"Is there anything else you want me to?" I ask Mr Jones as I approach him.

He shakes his head. "Nothing in particular. But if you want to busy yourself, feel free to sort out any of the shelves," he says, gesturing to the whole shop. "Those pesky teenagers. They always come in and mess everything up."

I laugh at his comment and head towards the leftmost shelf, with the intention of slowly working my way through the shop, rearranging the miscellaneous items on the shelves so that they look neat and are easy to browse through. All of a sudden, the pounding in my head intensifies and nausea washes over me.

"Mr Jones, I know I just came in but I don't feel very well. Is it alright if I go back early today?" I ask.

I wince as the headache grows more painful with every step I take, no matter how soft it is.

"Go home and take a rest, Sam. I can close up the shop," Mr Jones replies.

"Thank you."

As much as I want to stay, I can't concentrate on anything. I'd be useless here, just putting myself in agony.

I make a beeline towards the back office and snatch my backpack off the couch, swinging it over my shoulders and rushing out of the shop as quickly as I can without running. I stuff my hands into my jeans pocket and start walking, faster and faster, wanting it to stop.

Please, just stop.

I absolutely hate these episodes of headaches and migraines. I don't even know how — or why — they started, but they came one day and never left. I've told my parents but they just brushed it off as a normal headache. The worst thing is that medicines never work and I'll have to wait it out. Even then, I've never experienced a migraine to this extent.