Page 120 of Serpentine

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Page 120 of Serpentine

I mean, fuck, I’ve waited my entire life to know why I am how I am. Even if I thought I didn’t want to know back then. I think a part of me always has wanted to know.

“My suspicion was correct. You are, in fact, autistic.”

I sit back in the comfort of the blue couch in his office, staring at him as the veil of the unknown crashes down. Because now I know.

I’m autistic.

“But I’m pretty normal most of the time, so I don’t understand how I could be…” I trail off, looking down at my shoes. I thought I was ready for this revelation. But I also thought she would be with me.

Not having her here is very…. well, frankly, it’s dis-regulating. I feel my comfort blanket has been thrust into the washer, and I’m the child watching it spin, hoping it’ll be done soon.

How could she leave me to do this on my own?

How could she abandon me?

“I think that autism is highly misunderstood, especially sometimes in mainstream media. There is no such thing as normal, Braxton. Autism isn’t an illness. It’s more of a social disorder. You see and process the world differently. You have a thought pattern like no one else, and you’re not even the same as another autistic person. The spectrum is vast, and the things you struggle with are wholly different from others. Though, some things can be typical amongst those on the spectrum.”

The spectrum.

My chest heaves as panic sets into it.

I reach across the cushion and find no comforting hand to hold.

Anger overtakes the moment’s shock, and I’m thankful I can instead focus on something else. I’ll focus on my rage towards Aella for leaving me to process this alone.

“And the terrible spells?” I choke out.

“More commonly known as meltdowns. They’re usual when overstimulation comes into play, though you seem to have found your way to combat them. The white noise, the red lights you like so much…”

I nod as cogs seem to click into place inside me.

As the puzzle of me becomes complete.

I never knew who I was on a cellular level. I never knew why I am who I am or why certain things bother me so.

“An autistic brain differs from a neurotypical brain, but it’s also beautiful. People often consider some of the most prolific thinkers and influential individuals to have been autistic. It’s not a bad thing to be, Braxton. But it’s a lot to process, I know. I’ll help you on that journey if you allow me to.”

My breathing has picked up, the buzzing lights above adding to the overwhelming heaviness in the room.

I need… I don’t know what I need. But she’d know.

It was stupid of me to get so attached to someone else. But this happens: They leave, disappear from my life, and then I have to learn to cope by myself again.

“I have to go,” I tell the doctor abruptly and stand to leave the room.

“Braxton, please call if you need to talk. Please do not isolate yourself. It would be best if you relearned yourself. I promise you, once you do, you’re going to be the happiest you’ve ever been!” he shouts after me as I’m looking for escape.

“Sir, are you alright?” the front desk woman asks as I bolt past her and stab a hundred times into the elevator buttons.

Tugging my phone from my pocket, I text Miles.

As the elevator dings, I dial up Blaze and wait for him to answer as I hit the ground-level button.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he shouts as he answers.

“None of your business.”

“It is when we needed you, and your fucking phone was off!”




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