He flipped through the glossy magazine, placing the palm of his hand on the smooth, shiny surface, he lifted the page up to his face, it was cool against his cheek. Closing his eyes, he let the coolness fill his weary body after his long day at school, a new magazine was his only escape.

"William! William!" a lady shouted, she was a short, solid woman with an annoying shrill.

"William!"

At the sound of his mother, William stuffed the magazine back into the rack.

"Price check to register 2", announced a voice.

"William, what are you doing, standing here? Go and get a trolley."

His mother would never let him buy a magazine, his mother would never let him buy anything. He had heard the speech a thousand times. "We don't need them, they're not a necessity. We need food, clothes and a sturdy roof over our heads." William sighed.

"We need something special for dinner on Friday, your cousin Patrick is coming over." She mumbled in William's direction.

William and his mother walked past the magazine stand. He didn't dare to turn his head, but out of the corner of his eye he saw music magazines, car, sports, movie mags, but he knew the one he wanted.

"Could you go and get a big bag of rice?" his mother asked.

He couldn't help himself, he went the long way, past the magazines, looking over his shoulder, he picked one up. William rarely read them. He just loved to look, feel, smell. He didn't care about Princess Di or movie stars.

He picked up a thick, solid magazine, it was perfect, the 200 pages would last for a while. He held the cover close to his chest, a sensation ran through his body. His friends at high school could never comprehend the fact that he wasn't interested in girls. He'd always read 'Playboy' and other magazines with them, but his fantasies were different from theirs, as they stared at sexy, naked bodies. William was always turned on by the smell, and touch of the magazine itself. Then after their sweaty hand prints had soiled the pages, the feeling was lost.

The fluorescent lights reflected off each page. The magazines glistened like car windows reflecting bright sunlight.

"William! William!"

"Clean up on aisle 5", another voice wailed.

"William! Where are you William?" she yelled frantically.

The boy backed further into his hideout. From the gap between the rack and the wall, he could see half the store.

"William! William!"

Her shrill sent a shiver down his spine. The corner was dark, it reminded him of the cupboard behind the kitchen door. He hated that cupboard, but also loved it. It was his refuge, it was dark, lonely and full of guilt. William dreaded the darkness, he felt darkness was his guilt, coming to smother him. Whenever he slept in his bed he always opened his curtains to let in the moonlight, if there wasn't a moon, he'd lay awake all night, listening to the sounds only darkness brought. But in the dim light of his corner it was exciting, because she didn't know about it.

"William! William!"

He checked the magazine for any bends in pages, no, none, he held it close. William could see the door, but knew his mother was too close.

"William!"

He could hear her getting further away. He leaned forward to see where she was. William walked cautiously past the frozen foods. Under his polo shirt, he could feel the cold magazine against his stomach as guilt rose. It had been hard to stuff the thick magazine quickly down his jeans and he was disappointed that some pages were bent.

"William! William!"

The door was down the end of the aisle, he focused on a sign, YES! WE ARE OPEN CHRISTMAS EVE. William headed straight for the door.

"Price check to register 6."

"William! William!"

He didn't turn to her call, he walked faster, almost running.

"William!"

"Excuse me, are you going to pay for that?" one man said.

He didn't look around, he ran.

"Manager to the front desk."

He ran.

"Wait William, don't go!"

He ran.

"William!"

He ran.

"Security to the front door."

He ran.

"Someone stop him!" cried the Manager.

He stopped.

"William!"

He ran.