Feather

One

Peyton nervously tried to open the door to Michael's flat as he stood behind her, arms wrapped tightly around himself. It took a few seconds as the lock was a bit stiff but it eventually unlocked and Peyton walked in holding the door open. Michael practically ran inside, sitting on the couch, his legs pulled up tightly to his chest.

Peyton shut the door slowly, frowning at her friend. She had never seen him like this, and honestly it scared her just a little bit. Peyton and Michael had been working together for roughly six months now, and they had hit it off almost immediately. They shared a mutual love of music, video games and movies. It was undeniable that they were destined to become great friends.

She sighed as she moved over to her friend, crouching down next to him, "Michael?" Her voice quiet.

"They touched me. Not allowed to touch... touching... can't touch." Michael's voice seemed as if his mind was so far away. Barely audible even in the silence of the room.

"Michael, babe, you're shaking." Peyton placed a hand on his arm, and tensed as Michael yelled.

"No!" He crawled to the other side of the couch, resuming his previous position, but this time rocking back and forth slightly, "can't touch, touching bad, people don't like it, don't touch." He repeats over and over again, sounding like it was some sort of chant.

Peyton was genuinely worried now. She understood that Michael may have a problem with touching but not to this extent. Not once had they hugged, or touched, in the six months they have known each other but Peyton never realised it was out of fear. She silently moved onto the couch, taking Michael's old spot. She watched as his eyes looked almost wild, constantly looking all around the room.

She really wished she could punch those girls from today for putting Michael in that state. She had watched as they moved closer to him, crowded him, but Michael was smiling so she didn't think anything of it, going back to what she needed to do. It wasn't until she heard a loud eruption of laughter that she'd turned back and noticed her friend backed into a corner, tears so visible in his sweet, green eyes.

Peyton didn't think twice as she ran to help him, shoving the girls out of the way. He had flinched as she reached for him, so she could assume that that was what had caused him to become this way. The giggles from behind her had made her so angry as she heard them tease that they had only "touched his arm." Some people just don't like being touched, especially by strangers. Especially by strangers that look like they've touched so many others before.

Now, Peyton wasn't one to judge others but she'd be lying if she said she didn't recognise the girls. Knowing full well what they were like, and the fact that they had someone different with them on what seemed to be a monthly basis. It wasn't her place to say anything about another person's life, that doesn't concern her, but when it involves her friends then she will throw down any bitch trying to do them harm.

"Michael?" She tried again, flinching slightly as his head whipped around to look at her in the eyes. Taking a deep breath, Peyton moved forward to sit next to him, but keeping a safe distance. She frowned as he tried to move away from her, "you don't have to run away from me. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Not allowed to touch." He said again, "'Michael, don't touch', mum always said, 'Michael, don't touch.'"

"Don't touch what, Michael?" Peyton asked. She was so concerned about what he meant, worried that it might be something truly terrible.

"People. People don't like being touched, mum said that I was different. Not allowed to touch anymore," his voice changed slightly, as if he was coming back to himself, his sentences much more coherent, "my mum told me that I shouldn't hug so much. When I was younger I liked hugging and just always touching, it felt nice to me. She said I needed to stop, that people don't like it. So I stopped doing it so much, until one day I just didn't do it at all." His voice was so quiet, and seemed so embarrassed by his revelation.