Phobic.

The rebellious streak in me rises and dances through my veins as I slip out my window, careful to leave it open. I jump from the small porch to the ground and my knees bend as my feet hit the grass.

"Freedom." I hiss as I fix my hair and pull the collar of my hoodie further round my neck. The blackness of the night made me feel at home, and I smile, realising though, that the lights of the city were missing.

I liked the night, more so in the city though, where the pavements never slept, cars crawling up the road all hours and filling your ears with the most comforting feeling of happiness and noise.

Here was too quiet.

Usually, in the city, I'd stand on the pavement, backed with neon lights and enticing sounds, and just watch, watch the bright lights crawl past, watch the people who only appear at night. I'd listen too, to the music from the bars, the laughter of the partygoers. I loved it.

Here though, everything was silence. With night, in Withston, came death, and it didn’t feel right. This place needed lightening up, brightening up, it needed life.

The small can of paint in my hoodie pocket made me smile, yeah, I'd liven this place up. I shove both my earphones in and turn the volume right up, well aware anyone who walked past me would hear each word perfectly, yeah, I'd liven this place up. I take a slow walk through the place I remembered from Sunday, and I smile, realising how different the place was at night.

I liked it a lot more than day.

I near a place I'd passed a while ago, and take a look round. No cameras, and a nice blank wall. The lack of cameras was a difference to the city, everywhere was watched, and now, cloaked in darkness in a new town, freedom was more evident than I ever thought it could be. As I walk upto the wall, plain white cinderblocks, I reach in my pocket and take the can of purple spray paint from my pocket, shaking it vigorously and smiling.

I remember the walls in the city, covered with life and pretty colours, ones that made your eyes ache and your heart pound with a mere glance. I stand on my toes and the hiss of the spray paint fills my ears, my eyes carefully shining, watching, as I draw a straight line, right to the floor.

It takes me ages, just like in the city, where we'd spend a whole night, 6 or so hours, on one wall, and by the morning it'd be a masterpiece, wonderful. The purple cityscape adorning the cinderblocks made me smile, ache for the lights of the city and the excitement. I needed the lights and the rush, I needed my city, and this small patch of the town was all I could get right now, but at the moment, it was enough. I give my cityscape a last smile, throw the empty can on the floor and walk away, the streetlights barely illuminating my path.

I didn't walk away and trudge back home to try and catch some sleep, oh no, because in the city sleep was obsolete. I could stay out all night, grab a double espresso from a 24/7 coffee pump and carry on with my day. I could stay out all night, with my friends, with Jake.

My smile just falters for a second when I think about him, but I push it back onto my lips and remember his message, feeling the Sidekick in my pocket strengthen my resolve.

I wander through the estates, road names sparking twinges of recognition, but I'm not really thinking where I'm going, I'm reliving pretty little memories of city life and happy nights.

I remember staying awake for four days straight, living on caffeine, cigarettes and life, midnight in the park scrawling things on the pavement, sat in Jake's lap with his arms holding me tight.

I remember our weekend in Vegas, where we'd got the train up, blown our savings, our morals and every scrap of dignity we'd arrived with.

I remember pretty night skies full of planes and pollution, lying on asphalt in my boyfriends arms, looking through broken roofs of industrial buildings.

I remember the patch of concrete in the corner of an abandoned factory Jake and I had christened ours, marks with our sweat, alcohol and cum.

I remember wild nights, and my heart aches for the rush of the city.

My heart aches for physicality, the need of someone next to me, and I was sure Withston wouldn't help me out. In the city, where our morals were looser than a gangsters pants, a quick fuck was readily available, no strings attached. When Jake and I fell out, I knew full well when I was backed against a wall by a pretty boy with dilated pupils and drugs in his veins, Jake was doing exactly the same.

One light pulls me from my thoughts, a bright light in the top left corner of a house. A normal house, on a normal street, with nothing to suggest it was out of the ordinary, yet, when I glanced at my Sidekick, the luminous numbers told me everyone should be tucked up asleep in Withston. I stare up at the square of light, see no curtains, no barriers between me and the room, and I catch movement inside.

I stop, lean back against the road sign I'd just walked past, and watched as curiosity rooted my limited edition Nike Hi-Dunks to the pavement. The room is all white, not even a hint of colour, even in the life spilling from the light bulb, and deep inside, I know who it is.

Ben, the boy in white, whose name I'd caught from the register, walks into my view through his bedroom window, and I feel at least four different emotions flood my system. He doesn't notice me as I stare up, wondering, like I had done all day, if he needed saving, and if I could be the one who saved him.

His pale eyes must've caught my movement down by his road sign, and he looks down, meets my eyes. Those emotions come back ten times as strong and jolt my body.

Fear, what would he think of me stood staring at him at quarter to three in the morning? Could he push me away?

Curiosity, whats keeping him awake? What's he really like?

Happiness, I know where he lives, he's looking me right in the eye.

Lust.

He was gorgeous.

Drop dead, knife in the heart, breath taking, jean shrinking-ly gorgeous.

I lift a hand, city kid confidence, and wave at him, a small movement of my hand before the other pushes me away from the road sign. I take a note of the road name as I trip down it, this time heading back to my house, to make a search of what was wrong with Ben, and how I could help.

-x-

Grafitti in Withston!

I smile.

My cityscape had caught the attention of the lifeless town, and the media flurry made me feel a little more at home. I walk past all the boards shouting headlines at me, and I'm eager to get to school, for once, to get to Ben.

I'd found out last night, after a couple of hours Google-ing Ben, that he had a phobia of people touching him, Aphenphobia, or something like that, and most probably, according to Google, a fear of germs, of infection, of dirt.

I wanted to help him, to say the least, and not just for my own needs, for his too. I wanted him to have a normal life, with me.

I couldn't put into words how much I wanted to help Ben.

I find my seat in class, right next to Ben, and I smile at him, "I saw you last night."

Ben nods, his fingers twitching and dancing against each other. He doesn't answer, doesn't meet my eyes.

"Aphenphobia, right?"

His eyes snap up at that, meet mine for a second then twitch to the desk.

"That’s what you've got isn’t it?"

He nods.

"I want to help you..." I whisper, resisting leaning closer to him, my yearning for physical contact almost overwhelming me.

"...Why?"

"You shouldn't be like that..." I say, leaning my elbows on my table and never breaking the fragile eye contact we'd managed to establish, "I want to help."

Ben nods, his breathing light and uneven and his eyes dart from my left eye to my right eye, over and over.

"Will you let me?"

He nods again. A deep breath, a white chest rising and falling. Another nod.

A smile.

The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

My own smile mirrors his and stays on for hours.

It's still gracing my lips as I walk away from my cinderblock cityscape, another empty can at it foundations and the words 'The City Never Sleeps' scrawled over its sky.

I smile wider, and dig my hands in my pockets, changing my route to walk past Ben's again.

Yeah, I'd liven this city up. I'd make sure everyone would remember me, one person at a time.

And I'd start with him.