One Pup

Chapter 5 - The Lone Wolf

---Felix's POV---

"Here's your stop Felix." The bus driver spoke in a dull tone. My eyes flickered over his face, confused. Was he angry? His brows were frowned but his lips were lifted up... Why is he making a happy gesture when he's angry? Or maybe he's happy but angry with...something?

I let out a little hum, grabbing my bag. My fingers flew over the zippers and ties, making sure everything was closed and in place twice over, opening and zipping everything shut again before I stood up.

The man let out a little sigh while he opened the doors, making me flinch back at the loud hissing sound. I quickly walked down the two steps, looking left and right before walking away.

Already I spotted my mother standing on the porch, waiting patiently. My eyes dropped back down to the floor, watching as I took the familiar steps until I paused.

"Welcome home Felix."

I hummed, swaying my weight slightly. She opened up the door and I walked in, flinching back when I nearly bumped into Eric, my father. "Oh, sorry Felix. Didn't see you there, son."

But my eyes were focused on Eric's feet, how close they stood to me. If he leaned over, he could easily touch me... I hated being touched. Somehow, I had to be prepared mentally and reach out myself before I could let it happen.

Scurrying around Eric, I heard him sigh deeply as I fled upstairs and dropped my schoolbag before neatly emptying it, sorting everything away. After I was done, I went to the closet and got out of the school uniform, changing into warm and soft clothes before I grabbed my walking boots.

No rain today... perfect day to go walking again.

Holding onto the boots, I made my way down and looked around, spotting Caroline in the kitchen. My brows furrowed as I stared at the floor, swaying on the spot. I wanted to go out and walk... but there were rules I had to follow.

And one of them was asking permission first.

I knew it was Caroline's attempt to get me to speak more often, to try and verbalize me as advised in class. As if it worked; I hated being talked to like I was a little toddler. Or worse, talked about as if I wasn't standing in the same room, listening to the conversation.

My mind could easily come up with multiple occasions where my parents or teachers have spoken about me, but not to me. Making degrading comments about my capability to understand them, the teachers even huffing out their annoyance about having to babysit a 'drooling invalid'. Ever since they pinned the label of Severe Autism on my head, people were acting as if I didn't understand them.

'Low functioning autism' is what they called it. A nice way to say that they thought I was beneath them, that I wasn't mentally capable of doing what they did simply because I chose not to speak.

But that was just it. I chose not to communicate, voted against creating more output and adding more sound to process. But they didn't see it that way. I didn't speak, hence I was incapable of doing so, which made me moronic.

I didn't even know if I could; I had tried it a few times on my walks, but the sound of my own voice was sharp to my ears, loud as it bounced around inside my head. However, I knew I was equally as smart as what they considered to be a normal human being. If there was a way to speak without sound, I would.

"Felix? What's wrong honey?" I glanced up and away as I saw her approaching, cleaning her hands on the dishtowel. Her ring glinting in the sunlight, nail-polish glistening softly before I looked down. Licking my lips, I kept my eyes focused on my boots. I wanted to go outside but hated speaking.