3 || Get Lost

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Realistic Fiction

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"It feels good to be lost in the right direction." --Unknown

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Faith had just finished work. She got in her car. She drove out of the parking lot and on to the freeway, as she did every day. She was sitting in the mists of traffic when she looked around at all the faces sitting in the cars around her. They looked haggard from hours of stress and sleepless nights.

Faith had just turned twenty in the spring. She peered into her rearview mirror and was shocked to see the same look of sadness on her young face. No, she wanted to scream at her reflection.

"Screw this," she called to the people around her, but of course no one heard her. She merged into the rightest lane and got off the freeway. Today Faith decided to get lost.

It was one of her favorite things to do. Just drive and drive until she hadn't the slightest idea where she was, and then work out how to get back. She pulled her curly brown locks out of their confined bun, rolled down her windows, opened her sunroof, and blasted her music. Faith took random turns here and there, drove up hills and speed down. She called into the wind and threw her hands into the air. She felt free and alive.

It was around 5 when she finally looked at her clock. She should probably be getting back, she thought sadly. The sun was getting ready to set, so she decided to drive to the highest peak and watch it set. As she was driving she came across a sign that read, "private property." Whatever, she scuffed rolling her eyes and continuing her drive. "No trespassing," said another sign. The road was beginning to thin out and the trees were tunneling, but Faith continued driving, determined to see the sunset in the best place possible.

The trees around her began to open up and the view was breathtaking. Her driving slowed as she took in the scene before her. The sun was casting a silhouette of the mountains, while the vibrant reds, oranges, pinks, purples, and blues, danced gently together to the music she couldn't hear. Faith drove to the edge and parked. Stepping out, she walked around to the front and laid on top of her hood.

Felix watched from his window, as the woman with the tumble of curls, came out of her beat-up station wagon. He stayed hidden in his home, making sure she could not see him. She wasn't supposed to be here. No one was. It was just him. He blinked trying to focus.

Change can be good, his mother had said to him many of times. Every time he had to switch schools and when his father passed away. Change can be good, Felix, remember that. His mother couldn't say that to him anymore, but her voice still echoes sweetly in his head.

Felix is a man of patterns, and formulas. He was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, the doctors referred to him as having high functioning autism, meaning his IQ is higher than the average person with autism, whether or not that means he is intelligent is unknown to him. Partly because he has never met another person with autism, so he can't test whether or not they share intellectual ideas or not.

Many people believe because Felix does not like conversing with people and interacting that he must be stupid, but his brain never stops. He analyzes everything and likes to find the logic behind it. But as he stares at the woman lying calmly on her hood, he can't find any logic. She shouldn't be here at all.

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