Disclaimer- Anything you recognise doesn't belong to me. All credit goes to the wonderful Michael Morpurgo

Ted

I trudge into the bar and sit down on my usual, wooden stool. A few of the regulars nod at me; others just sigh and roll their eyes. They think I'm stupid. That I'm wasting my money, but they don't know what I do. Don't feel what I do. Don't hear what I do. I throw my money onto the table and wait for my drink. When it comes, I grasp it with both hands and let the coolness of the tankard wash over me.

The pain of Albert's words had crashed into me like waves upon a cliff. I knew what he said was true. And I understood why he said it. But it was the fact that he said it. I know that I am less than worthy of his praise sometimes. But I do try. It's just so hard. He's a good boy. The best. But I find it hard to look after the farm with the constant screaming in my head. All I wanted was a bit more help. A bit more money. A bit more… calm.

I can hear the screams in my head now. I can always hear them. People say time is a healer, but they're wrong. Time hasn't healed the shrieks. No, time doesn't heal. But I know something that does. If only temporarily.

I take a big swig of the alcohol and listen to the screams as they get quieter. Yes quiet is good. I only hit Zoë because she couldn't stay quiet. Only shouted at Albert because he shouted at me. The screams have almost died away. Almost but not completely.

As I down my second tankard, my thoughts become clearer. No longer masked by the shouting. The voices are so quiet now, they could be asleep. Asleep or… dead. No, best not think about that. Another finished drink. And another. And another. Time to get home. Albert will be there. Come to think of it, he probably won't be. No. He'll be away dozing off when he should be working. He never helps. Never helps. He doesn't care. Just doesn't care what his laziness does to him, me, his mother, the farm, the animals, any of it. He just doesn't care.

I stagger out of the pub. As I do, the screams return and I get angrier and angrier. Angry at what the world has thrown at me. Angry at how naïve I was at Albert's age. Thinking that war was some kind of game. That I would be gone and back in a couple of weeks. I never anticipated the horror or the hatred that would be thrown in my face. Never anticipated how loud and painful the screams of the dying would be. Never anticipated looking into a man's eye as the blade of my ally's sword slashed through him.

I push open the door and stumble into the kitchen. Surprisingly, Albert is there. Looking at me with disgust on his face. He's so ungrateful. He doesn't realise what I did to get him living on this farm. He never lifts a finger. Always gets me to do the work. The voices now seem to be urging me on. They're telling me I need to punish him. So I will. I lift my hand. But suddenly everything starts to swim around. That's strange. I wasn't aware things did that. My sight is rolling back and forth. Then again, the world is round. Or is it? Maybe Columbus really did fall off the edge… fall... fall. Hmm? I didn't think the world was upside down. Maybe I should just get some sleep. These tiles seem comfortable enough…

Another day, another headache. However, something is missing. I can't quite put my finger on it. Here comes Albert, he's been working. He's a good boy. But now he's shouting, and the Screaming… its back, they're back. And it's all Albert's fault.

(A/N) This is my first fic ever! I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are welcome but please nothing too mean :)

Pippin