The Stranger In My Head

By Will B. Riley

That noise in Angie’s head; it’s tinnitus, the doctors say, but Angie knows better. It’s a voice, a man’s voice. Whose voice is it? Where is it coming from? Those are the very questions the voice itself wants to know. It wants Angie’s help and it’s telling her to do things she’s scared to do.

As if school bullies aren’t enough for a shy fifteen-year-old to deal with, not to mention her feelings for that cute new guy in her class, and friends who think she’s crazy, she’s now expected to find the voice’s owner by following the direction it’s coming from. Either the voice is real or Angie is insane. She’ll need to solve the mystery if she wants her mind back. But her search will reveal more than she expects and will place her life and the lives of her friends in mortal danger. Does she have the necessary courage? Well, with the cutest guy in school on her side, maybe, but that boy has a stunning girlfriend who might just get in the way. And if Angie should succeed in finding The Voice, what then?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Will B. Riley
• Release date: May 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310558269

Will B. Riley

Will B Riley was born in England where, to please a loving but insanely Catholic mother he spent most of his teen years in a seminary. At eighteen, terrified by the spectre of a life of enforced celibacy as Father Riley he escaped to Australia where he quickly became the other sort of father five times over to compensate. His memories of the seminary are mostly happy, Hogwarts-style ones. He’s still working on the Catholic guilt bit. After winning $1000 in an essay contest he decided being a writer was a quick and easy way to fame and fortune. He knows better now. He reads everything, from corn flake packets to Homer, and has completed several novels which are soon to be published as ebooks. Barry and his wife Patricia live on The Central Coast north of Sydney.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Mum, Dad, Angie’s gone crazy again.

The girl who bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen wore a smile of malicious glee. Her mother, who was draining spaghetti through a sieve, gave her a stern look.

How many times have you been told not to say that about your sister? It’s difficult enough for her as it is.

But Mum, she’s hearing voices again.

Noises, Sophie, noises. It’s called tin … um, tin …

Tinnitus, came the contribution from the next room where Mr Hope was watching the news on television. Tinnitus, and the sooner she sees that hearing specialist the better.

Mrs Hope plopped the drained spaghetti back into the saucepan. I made an appointment for her for this Friday. I hope they can do something. The poor girl can’t get any sleep. It’s no wonder her school work is falling behind.

She can’t get any sleep? Sophie yelled. What about me? She wakes me up every single night with her crying and moaning.

Her father turned off the television, stood up and stretched. He joined the others in the kitchen Ah, Sophie. You’re such a caring soul.

Well, who cares about me? Sophie tossed her long blonde hair. It’s always Angie. Angie’s special medicine, Angie’s special doctors.

Sophie, that’s not fair, Mrs Hope said. If you had asthma or hearing problems you’d have special medicines too. Angie has to have these things so she can get better.

Yeah, right. In the meantime I have to put up with her. Why can’t I have my own room.?

Her father laughed. Because this is a three-bedroom house. Maybe you think Angie should share your grandmother’s room. Anyway, here’s Angie is so you can ask her yourself.

Sophie threw herself onto the sofa, deliberately ignoring her younger sister who had appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. Despite there being only a year between their ages the sisters were only superficially similar. At sixteen Sophie was slimmer and more conventionally pretty. Angie’s face was rounder with soft eyes and baby lips, and framed by auburn curls. Her eyes were red and teary.

Sophie’s right; I am going crazy.

No you’re not, Love, Mrs Hope said. Don’t even think that. Lots of people suffer from noises in the head. Doctors know all about it.

Oh, Mum, you don’t understand. It’s different now.

Both parents saw the pain in her eyes. Mr Hope opened the cutlery drawer and began setting the table. He stopped and took his daughter’s hand in his own. Darling, why do you say it’s different?

Because they’re not just noises I hear any more. They’re voices now.

#

Angela Hope!

Mrs Lambert’s screech shattered Angie’s dream, a dream in which she’d been lounging on soft cushions in a gondola, being poled along the canals of Venice by a handsome gondolier. They had just floated under the Eiffel Tower, which even in her dream seemed strange, but no more strange than the Sydney Opera House they’d floated past earlier.

She woke up to find her forehead almost touching the desk. The derisive laughter of her classmates reminded her of where she was, and the fact that Mrs Lambert had called her Angela told her she was in trouble. Nobody called her Angela otherwise.

When you’ve fully returned to this world, Angie, perhaps you’ll oblige us with your opinion.

Her opinion on what? Angie’s mind was a total blank. What class was this? Slowly it came to her; if it was Mrs Lambert’s class this must be Modern History. Her blank look caused fresh ripples of laughter and the familiar low-voiced comments. 'Angela Hopeless.' 'Angela Hope – class dope.' Help came in the shape of a scribbled note, which appeared on her desk, slipped there behind his back by the boy in the desk in front of hers. The cute new boy all the girls talked about at recess. ‘Causes of World War One’, it said. Angie breathed a sigh of relief and thanks. With only a moment’s hesitation she stumbled through the answer, to Mrs Lambert’s satisfaction.

When the bell rang Angie picked up her books and trooped towards the exit with the others. Just before she reached it she heard her name called and turned to see Mrs Lambert beckoning her over. Uh-oh, she thought, here comes another lecture about my inattentiveness. Mrs Lambert waited until the last student left then closed the door.

I’m sorry, Miss … Angie began. The teacher made a signal for silence and pointed to a seat, then squeezed her own bulky body into the seat next to her.

It’s all right, Angie. You’re not in trouble. She waited until the girl was seated before continuing. But I’m a little concerned about you. You see, I know why you’re tired all the time.

Angie’s eyes widened. The older woman laughed.

Nothing stays secret in this place for long. I hear students talking, but I also spoke to your mother. She tells me you’re seeing a doctor about your hearing problem.

Angie nodded. On Friday.

That’s tomorrow.

Huh? Oh yeah. She really must be tired.

Well, I’m sure there are things they can do for tinnitus these days. My father suffered terribly from it so I have some understanding of what you’re going through. And you’ll be pleased to know I’ve spoken to your other teachers.

Oh great, Angie thought. Now the whole school will know I’m a weirdo. But she smiled and thanked her. Mrs Lambert was being kind, but what would she think if she knew about the voices?

Most of the kids had left for home and the corridors were empty except for a few stragglers retrieving stuff from their lockers. As she unlocked her own a shadow fell over it. She turned and looked up to find to her dismay her biggest tormentor, Todd Norton, looming over her. Todd was her sister’s boyfriend, big and beefy, with stubbled blond hair and a permanent sneer. Lurking behind him and equally large were his bully mates, Kurt Miller and Jason Swindon.

Well, look who’s here, Angela Hopeless. Heard any strange voices recently?

Yes, it had been a big mistake to mention the voices to Sophie. Now it would be all around the school.

Get lost, Todd.

He leaned closer instead, revelling in his ability to intimidate. Angie tried not to cringe but his closeness and his smell of sweat and leather disgusted her. Despite this Todd was not without a certain animal magnetism---as Angie had once conceded to Sophie---if only his manners were less pig-like. Before either could say anything further an arm stretched between them.

Do you mind if I get at my locker?

It was the new guy, Will Cassidy. Angie felt a flurry of emotions. Thrill; Will Cassidy had a locker next to hers! Confusion; cute guys always made her tongue-tied. Fear; Will Cassidy was about to get his head knocked off by Todd. Will inserted his key and opened his locker, forcing Todd to move aside. When he slung his backpack over his shoulder and closed the locker he turned to find Todd’s face an inch from his own.

You’re new here, Cassidy, so there’s a few things you’d better learn about me.

Angie bit her lip, expecting Todd to do something violent, but when the new boy returned his glare coolly without appearing in the least intimidated the bully seemed confused. Will was as tall as Todd though much less bulky. He shook his head.

I think I’ve already learned all I want to know about you, Norton.

The bully’s eyebrows rose in shock. Nobody talked back to Todd Norton. His nostrils flared and his shoulders stiffened. Angie tensed. This was it.

Hey! Norton, Swindon, Miller. We’re waiting for you three.

Angie could have kissed Mr Romero the football coach. When he called them a second time Todd and his two shadows turned and ran to him. Before turning the corridor Todd turned and gave Will the finger. When they had disappeared Angie found her voice.

Thanks.

Will turned and looked at her. What for?

For getting those creeps out of my hair.

He smiled. He had a lovely smile, the kind that made her want to smile too. His black hair and blue eyes made a devastating combination.

Forget it. Don’t let them worry you.

It’s you who should be worried. Those guys don’t forgive.

I’m not afraid of Norton and his bovine mates.

Angie made a mental note to look up ‘bovine’. They walked side by side to the school doors without speaking. Outside Angie found her voice again.

And thanks for the help in Mrs Lambert’s class.

He shrugged. That’s ok. Maybe you can help me sometime. I suck at English grammar and you seem pretty good at it. He paused. You’re Angie, right?

Oh wow. He’d noticed her. He even knew her name. Yes. And you’re, um … Will? As if she didn’t know.

Yeah. Where do you live, Angie?

Lidcombe.

Oh yeah? I live in the other direction. So, see you tomorrow.

Yes. Oh …no, I have the day off school. I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. What did she say that for? Now he’ll ask what’s wrong with her. But he didn’t.

Ok. See you Monday then. Enjoy your weekend.

Then he was gone. Striding off and out of her life. Until Monday. Angie had to stop herself from skipping like a little girl as she walked home. She knew it was stupid of her to fantasise that someone as adorable as Will Cassidy was interested in her but it was a lovely fantasy all the same, and at least he hadn't joined in the ridicule and name-calling in class. By the time she reached home she'd calmed down a little. How silly of her to be disappointed that he didn't live near her so they could walk to school and back together. Besides, once he got to know her better he'd be sure to stay out of her way. Who wanted to be friends with a loony who heard voices?

Chapter 2

Doctor Ling put down the otoscope with which he'd been inspecting Angie's ear, leaned back and folded his hands.

"Well, Angie,