Listen!
Michael Griffin lay in bed. He heard the voice for the second time in as many nights. The voice although eerie was pleasant and flirtatious, The kind of voice he gave to the woman who visited him in his dreams.
�Michael�listen to me Michael�you must listen�you must� Michael didn�t listen. That voice scared him more than anything had ever scared him in his life, even more than when his son was born in January of 86. The possibility that he was hearing voices was bad enough but the possibility of those voices not being in his own head was terrifying. He lay his head under the pillow and five minutes later he slipped into a restless sleep. He awoke four times that night each time hearing the voice, each time wanting to get straight back to sleep and each time only succeeding after twenty minutes of tossing and turning.
When he awoke tot he alarm the next morning there were no voices. By two thirty he had completely forgotten about the night before. The phone rang.
�Hello?� Michael asked.
�Michael, listen to me Michael� There was a pause from the other end of the phone and the voice came flooding back to him in perfect clarity. It couldn�t be the voice, this one was older still a woman�s but older. �Are you listening?�
�Huh? yeah�
�You�ve got to get down to St James� David�s been taken in�
�Helen, is that you? Jesus what�s happened� He was scared now for David as well as the recollection of last night visitor. Helen was crying now.
�Can you come?� She asked.
�Of course I can I�ll be there as soon as I can.�
�Thanks Michael�
�There�s no n�� He heard the clank of the receiver and then the dull tone. He replaced his own receiver �Jesus!�
The journey to St James; was tiresome and longer than he had expected. Parents seemed to be out in force. All seeming to be heading the same way he was to pick up their children. He was forced to use the smaller roads, which he hated more than the parents. Everybody parked there cars too far away from the kerb so if there happened to be drivers coming the other way you had to take turns dodging in-between parked cars. He arrived just after three twenty.
When he entered the reception he saw Helen talking to a doctor, he assumed asking if there was any news. By the look on the doctor�s face and on Helens he doubted there was.
�Helen!� He shouted as he ran towards her, narrowly missing an auderly pushing a patient in a wheelchair �How is he? Oh my god how is he?� He broke down then in the middle of the reception. His son was his life especially now that he hardly saw him. Helen put her arm around his shoulder and led him to the chairs.
�I don�t know, all I know is I got a phone call from here at two saying he had been brought in, in a critical condition� She was crying now �First degree burns, mike�
�Where were you?� There was anger in his voice now.
�I was at work, He was at home� She caught the look in his eyes not noticing it in his voice� God mike he�s old enough to look after himself now. He�s 16 for god sake!�
�Ok, ok I�m sorry, I didn�t mean� He let the sentence trail off. He knew he couldn�t blame Helen for this any more than he could blame himself. Like she said he is old enough to look after himself. �I�m sorry� he whispered.
They were moved to a private consultation room which Michael knew meant one of two things either David was dead or that he was going to die. His tears began to fall again. They were sat in the room no longer than five minutes but it felt like an hour to him, when the doctor arrived. When Michael saw the melancholic look on the doctor�s face he knew what the news was. Helen also seemed to know.
�No No don�t you dare, don�t you dare� she screamed at him and began to cry harder. The doctor took a step backwards
�I�m sorry Mr and Mrs Newman but Shane died in the operating theatre�
�No, he can�t be he cant be� Helen whispered �He cant�
�How did this happen� Michael asked, his voice stronger than Helens but not much.
�Well we don�t know, We got a phone call just after half past one from a young woman saying that your boy had been badly burnt. Paramedics arrived not long after but there was no woman in sight. They found your son in the living room. The reason we don�t know what happened is although your son was badly burnt there were no scorch marks in the house.�
�My god� Michael looked at the doctor in disbelief �This woman did you get a name? Did she call back?�
�No, but� The doctor looked at Helen sympathetically.
�But what?� Helen asked.
�But your son did mention a woman when he arrived, It was a little hard to understand but I believe he said listen dad woman� He sighed �I�m so sorry for your loss Mr and Mrs Newman.�
They were heading back to Michael�s apartment Helen was still crying. She had insisted on seeing David, which Michael tried to persuade her from doing. In the end he had gone with her. When she saw him she had regretted it Michael could see it in her eyes. He could feel the hatred build up in his body as he stood over his sons still body. The hatred for the woman that did this to there son. It had to be her it was the only possible explanation. Nothing was said on the ride home.
They pulled up on the kerb outside Michael�s Apartment. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before Helen spoke �take me home Michael� She was crying again �I want to go home.�
�Are you sure, are you sure you don�t want to stay for a little while, just to talk.�
�Sorry mike I just want to go home, Please Michael� He was reluctant to let her go home he didn�t want to leave her like that and he didn�t want to be alone but he knew he couldn�t change her mind. He started the car.
He pulled back up outside his own apartment at 6:57.
�Jesus David, what happened?�
�You could have stopped this if you just listened� He turned He knew that voice. He wanted to throttle her until she couldn�t speak any more he wanted to beat her to a pulp and urinate on her dead body. He turned but there was nothing there. Well of course there isn�t Michael you�re going fucking crazy. Never the less he still spoke to the voice.
�Wh-wh-what�
�You could have stopped this, you just had to listen� The voice was every where in the car now, it was all around him.
�You fucking bitch� He screamed not caring if there was really a woman there just enjoying the release of his anger �You fucking murdering bitch. I won�t listen now
Get the fuck out of my head�
�You have to listen, I did not murder your son� the voice was fading now.
�Bitch� He screamed. He climbed out of the car and entered his apartment.
He lay awake in his bed. He had finished a half bottle of whiskey hoping that it would help him sleep. It didn�t and now he could feel a dull thud at the back of his skull. He was praying to god that the voice wouldn�t come tonight. It did.
�Michael listen to me� The voice was pleading now. �Please, please listen.�
�I won�t listen to a murderer, now go away!� He shouted at his ceiling.
�You have to l��
�Go away� That he screamed, putting his hands over his ears. He started to hum so he could no longer hear what she was saying. When he thought she had left he lowered his hands
�It�s happening again,� The voice said faintly. Michael sat up in his bed
�What?� But the voice was already gone.
The shrill ring of the phone woke him at half past three the next morning. He ran down the stairs still naked, dreading the worst. It was his mother his father had been taken into hospital and eleven thirty the previous night he had died at three.
�What the hell happened?� He asked already knowing the answer.
�A fire we think. He was burnt. They found him in the street not far from St James. They rushed him there but they couldn�t save him.� His mother didn�t even sound phased by his fathers death. He wondered how long she had being having her affair. His mum left him when he broke down into tears again saying that she had things to do. He had said goodbye and slammed the phone down. He now sat in his chair rapped in a cover with a bottle of vodka. He had fallen into a drunken sleep. Banging on his door at noon woke him. He thought about leaving it but the banging was making his hangover worse, tenfold. He went to the door still rapped in the cover.
�I�m coming for fuck sake� The banging stopped. He opened the door. It was Helen.
�Oh Michael, I�m so sorry.�
They had talked for nearly two hours before they had ended up in bed. Both wanted each other not for sex but for company. He lay there thinking how strange all this was and how if he had only listened to the voice his father and his son would both be alive. He wept then got up. He ran the bath and had another three glasses of vodka. He climbed in the bath a little drunk. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
�Michael, Michael� He woke hearing the voice. When he opened his eyes she was there staring down at him and god she was beautiful. As beautiful has he had imagined. �Michael, You have to listen now, Will you listen?�
�Y-Y-Yes� He stuttered. He caught her glance behind him and he looked to see what she saw. IT was Helen; she held a blowtorch in her hand. Michael stood up hoping he would be able to escape or fight her but he slipped and fell backwards. His head cracked on the bath and he fell unconscious. Helen let out the water from the bath and began to cook his flesh. IT reminded her of barbecued chicken.
�He should have listened to you Suzie.� She cackled.