Author's notes: This story of mine had been an idea I'd wanted to use for a really long time. I actually posted a rough version of this with two chapters not so long ago, but I wasn't happy with how I was wording my sentences, so, I deleted it and started from scratch. Also, I should point out that I've had to delete and resubmit this version of the story at least twice now due to technical difficulties. I just need to take my time correcting my mistakes.

I put a lot of my heart and soul into this fic, because in hindsight my intention behind this tale is to explain how an Autistic young adult like myself struggles with their life, through the usage of a fictional avatar.

PS: I would like to give a big shout out to the creators of Marble Hornets and especially Everymanhybrid as a thanks for inspiring me to create this fic. I am in no way trying to rip off either of their web series, I am just a fan trying to make my own Slenderverse merely for entertainment purposes and nothing more. What I either do or not do with this story are my decisions and no one else's.

Welcome To My Life

You can never be sure exactly what fate has in store for you. Can you? No, of course you can't. Not even when you are in the prime of your life, having accomplished so much in your time on this planet. But is fate real or is it a delusion? I, for one, don't have the answers to that. Nor do I know of anyone who does.

My name's Felix. Felix Roderick Benson. I'm a 17-year-old lad from Scotland. The year is currently 2015. We are in the beginning of Autumn. And now that I've recently finished school, I don't have any clue on what I want to do with my time. That's the big issue for a good portion of young adults when they too have left school. College is an option, but the mere thought of applying for a course there is daunting for me.

I have Autism. Yes, Autism. The same Autism that too many people think is a disease caused by vaccine injections. Well, it isn't! Got that? Autism is a natural disability that certain members of the human race are born with. Plain and simple. However, according to some experts, Autism may not even be a disability at all. Instead, it is our society itself that is labelling it as such.

Ever since my diagnosis, which happened when I was 11, it's taken me time to accept my Autism as a part of who I am. Which in turn has been very difficult, because a few kids at school picked on me for having it. I'm not a freak. I'm like everyone else, just different. But there's nothing wrong with being different, is there? I mean how else can a society of something function without differences? An itty-bitty of variety is no danger at all.

Pfft. If only I'd had the balls to say that to the punks who bullied me. Callum Bridge. That was the name of the boy who tormented me the most back then. I guess because of my natural shyness and quiet demeanour, I was always considered the perfect bully victim. The easiest target. I knew for certain that I was Bridge's easiest target.

Now I am the kind of guy who likes to keep to himself. The solitary kind that never bothers anyone, just minds his own business. Because of that, I was often ignored by most of my fellow pupils, which I wasn't too happy about because even the quiet kind of people can get lonely and want to make friends with others their own age.

Anyway, I'm alone by myself in the school grounds, yet how is it I get singled out for the other kids to harass me when, like I said, I'm not bothering anyone? Well, you don't have to be Autistic to get bullied, that much is true. I don't mind being shy or quiet, it's who I am. Doesn't mean it's a good enough reason for people to take the piss out of me for it!

It was like that for me all throughout my school years, both in primary and secondary/high school. Moving on from that, there were some good things that came out of my time at those places. Especially the latter one. Art & English. My favourite subjects in high school. If it came down to a choice of picking the subject that I thought was better than the other, English would win first place.

Storytelling has been a hobby of mine for a few years now. Trouble is, my grammar isn't good on account of my OCD riddled brain, and I'm constantly putting myself down because I feel like I'm not coming up with my own ideas.

Even me telling you my tales of woe has been hard work for me. I want my story to sound understandable, let alone be such. I've read so many books since I was a kid. The writers for these books have their own sort of literature language. Some writer's literature is too detailed to understand, while another's is simple enough to keep reading. Sometimes the two can even overlap with each other, and it's really hard to get over.

My point is I want you to relate to me. And the only way I can see that ever happening is if I try hard to be more straightforward in my sentences.

…

Monday morning. The sun is out. The birds flying in the sky. And I'm still asleep in my bed. After I left school before the summer holidays began this year, I've become a bit of a hermit. I rarely go outside, except to go shopping with my mum, and when I'm inside the house I just stay in my room all day on my computer. Not a great start to my legal adulthood, but you can't please everyone. Technically I became a legal adult when I reached 16 the year before, but that's not the point.

The point is I am not doing anything worthwhile with my time. But what can I do? I already mentioned my hesitations about college, I don't think I'm confident for getting a job either. So, I'll just give up! NO! I shouldn't give up. Not when my future is still ahead of me. What happened back at school happened, I need to admit that to myself and try to move on from it. But Bridge's antics left too much of an impact on my mental health, that it'll be a cold day in hell when I start feeling better about myself.

Come on! Be positive! Easier said than done, I'm afraid. But I'll give it a try.

And abracadabra! I have found the solution to my problems. A while after I'd gotten out of bed, I was browsing some YouTube videos when I noticed a link for a channel called "Film Central". Clicking on it, it was apparent that the owners of this channel were members of a film club, and the four videos they had uploaded were the four short films they'd made. Their short films weren't of the best quality in terms of writing, acting, visual effects etc., but who am I to judge about that stuff?

The film club did seem to have enjoyed making these videos, I'll say that about them. Perhaps that was the agenda all along. Also, at the end of each video, the club provided links to their Twitter account and website. I went straight into checking out the website first, where to my surprise, I discovered the building the club worked at was local to my city. This was starting to raise my hopes a little bit.

If I decided to join this Film Central soon, I would not only gain the necessary experience to improve my writing skills, but also make friends with people close to my age, because the current several members of the film club seemed to have looked slightly older than me. Some more info on the site explained why the current membership was so small. The club had only been formed in the last year.

As soon as I searched for the club's phone number, I wrote it down in my notebook as a reminder, took out my mobile and dialled the number. After a few seconds was spent waiting for the number to ring out, I was then greeted by a pleasant sounding, and definitely feminine voice. "Hello, this is Melanie from the Film Central film club. How can I help you?"

First off, you can remember to change the opening phone sentence into something original for the next time, instead of tweaking an outdated one. Thank The Lord I never said that out loud to this woman. I appreciate that she was being nice, don't get me wrong. But you can get so tired of hearing the same questioning phone statements over and over again.

"Hello… Um, I… I'm…" the anxiety was getting to me once again. "My name is… Felix B-Benson! And I was wondering if… I could, maybe make an… Appointment tomorrow to see about joining the film club."

"Okay, what time do want the appointment to be at? We work Mondays to Fridays, from 11 in the morning to 4 in the afternoon."

"Ugh, tomorrow at 11 sounds good." If you've memorised how polite Melanie has been to me so far, then you'll already know she was keen to accept my answer. And that was it! That was really it? Before I called the place, I was so nervous about arranging an appointment there, but now that it has been settled, I'm astounded by how simple it had been in the long run.

When my parents came home from their work later in the day, I told them the good news. Both of them were happy for me taking my first step in the right direction of life. And knowing that I had made them feel happy for me, made me feel happy for me. A lot of youngsters put a lot of effort into impressing their mums and dads to gain their approval. I feel that every good thing I do on this Earth should count as a token of my appreciation for them being the good people who gave me life.

Even so, it can be good every once in a while, to do something beneficial for myself.

…

I remembered to set an alarm for half past 8 in the morning last night. While for the past couple of weeks I didn't need to get out of bed so early because I didn't have to go to school anymore, today was very important to me.

And it was a wise choice waking up at this time of day. That way I'll have plenty of time to think about what I want to say to the big cheese at FC. As soon as I'd had my breakfast, gotten washed and dressed, I took my notebook and pencil case out of my rucksack and went to take a seat at the desk in my room where my computer was kept on top of.

Ugh, let's see about what I want to say. Opening up my notebook, then turning over to a blank page, I unzipped my pencil case, grabbed a pencil and a rubber from it, and started bullet pointing the exact questions I wanted to ask Film Central's big boss. After that was taken care of a few minutes later, I put my notebook and pencil case back in my rucksack.

Then I walked over to my bedside cabinet, which was on the right of my single bed near the bedroom windows. Opening the small door of the cabinet, I took out my watch, wallet and phone. I set all three on my bed's mattress. Checking my wallet first to see if I had enough change for the bus, because Film Central's building was in the west of the town area, and I live a fair distance away from the town. Thankfully, I had enough money like I'd hoped. Next was my phone. Battery 100% charged. Check. Time on watch? Two minutes to 9 O'clock. Alright, that leaves me just under an hour to stay at home before I go out for my appointment.

It was going to be a long wait. I had prepared myself for this appointment a little too early, now I was left with no clue as to how I was going to spend my time whilst I wait for the hour to whiz by. I could go and make tea for my mum after she wakes up from her sleep. It is her day off work after all.

…

A year ago, I would've been too scared to be traveling on the bus into town by myself. Look at me now, I'm doing fantastic! I'm not doing so fantastic at blocking out the noisy chit-chat of my fellow passengers. At least I won't have to put up with it for much longer. My stop in town is just coming into view.

I pressed the stop button, and was the first one off the bus. I moved to the side of the current stop to let the other passengers walk past me more easily. I adjusted the straps of my rucksack a bit as I checked my watch for the time. "10:41am" it read. Two minutes waiting for the bus to turn up near my street and over thirty for the bus to take me into town. Bloody typical. The kids are back at school, so the traffic still shouldn't be that busy in the morning.

Never mind about any of that. I've got under twenty minutes to walk over to Film Central. Lucky for me it was only a few streets away.

…

The building was a single-story brick-built structure, with automatic doors serving as the front entrance. I'm still feeling apprehensive about being here alone. But I did make the decision to come here for my benefit. And I'm literally right outside the front entrance, it'd be a waste for me to turn back now. So, onwards and upwards it is then! I'm going to brave this place whether I like it or not.

I quickly entered into the building through the automatic doors. The reception room was very basic in its setup. A large desk on the left, a small waiting space on the right. Walking to the desk, I too notice of the receptionist, a young woman with dyed red hair (as evidenced by the black roots on top of her scalp). I think she must be the same woman I spoke to on the phone yesterday.

"Excuse me." The woman stopped what she was doing, which looked to be paperwork, then raised her head up to look at me with her clear blue eyes. "Oh, sorry. I didn't hear you come in." That voice she used was familiar. This was the same lady I spoke too on the phone last night.

"That's alright. My name is Felix Benson. I… Spoke to you yesterday on the phone. And, I made an appointment to come here today to see if I wanted to become a member of the film club." "Yes, that's right! It was me you spoke to. You came here a bit earlier than I thought you would."

Had I? Briefly looking at my watch confirmed her statement. Merely ten to 11. Well, I did want to be early for this appointment, it's just a habit of mine that I get from my mum. Also, this place wasn't that far away from where the town centre I got dropped off at by the bus was.

"I'll just go and get my manager to see you now. I won't be long, but you can have a seat if you want." She got up from her chair behind the desk and went off towards the navy-blue painted door in the far centre of the room. I didn't take a seat like I was offered, for but a moment later, Melanie returned with her manager, a portly but well-dressed man who appeared to be in his early 40's.

The man smiled politely at me. "Hi, you must be Felix. I'm Steve, the manager of Film Central, obviously. We're on a first name basis with our staff here, so there's no need for you to be formal."

That was a relief. I hung my head down slightly as I put my hands in the front pockets of my jeans. Some first impression I'm having on this guy. "Um, yes I'm Felix. Ugh… I… Noticed that… No. What I am trying to… Tell you is there doesn't-no it doesn't seem like you have many staff here! Please don't take… Offence at what I just said."

"No, it's fine, honestly. I'll tell you the whole story behind it in my office, if you'd like to follow me through this door here." He led me through the aforementioned nay blue door he came in through before, and into the vast hallway. Said hallway had two doors on either side of the walls, equalling to four doors in total. The doors themselves were a good couple of meters apart from each other. One side's doors were facing in the same direction as the other side's ones.

Steve and I entered the first door on the left. His office was an organised area. Filling unit filled with various work-related documents, a small desk with a computer plugged in at the wall right behind it in the far-left corner of the room, and a large window in the far centre, showcasing the view outside. Looking more closely at it, I could see more of the building's exterior. There seemed to be three rectangular parts (probably more hallways), one on the left and right that joined into one at the far centre.

I grabbed a seat near Steve's desk, while Steve himself sat at his desk. Taking my rucksack off my back, I unzipped it to take out my notebook, which had all the questions I wanted to ask Steve about Film Central written down.

"So, Felix." Steve began. "What would you like to ask me, in regards to the film club?"

"Well, earlier you were going to explain the shortage of your staff here." "Right, of course. I'd forgotten about that. The reason for why I have such a short staff, well actually I do have two other members of staff besides Melanie. Namely janitors. But the reason I have that amount is because although what I do is still a job, we're not profiting off the films we make. Now, this is where it becomes a bit confusing. We might be making a living by making short films, but we are making a living by keeping this club in action, so to speak. And we have only been in action for the past year alone."

I got that well enough. Not many people would be willing to take a job like that where they don't earn a crust because they aren't selling what the club members are making. But they are earning some for keeping this place standing on its legs, in a manner of speaking.

That got me thinking of my next question. "Was this building ever abandoned in the past? Because it looks slightly old."

Steve took a moment or two pondering over the right answer to give me. "Yes… The building was abandoned for a few years, before I secured the legal rights for it. Let's just say the renovation process took longer than expected. It was originally a call centre before it was abandoned, which is why most of the interiors are designed the way that they are."

Okay, that's the questions that weren't written in my notebook answered. Now for the ones that are. "Ugh, seen as you mentioned that, you're making sure this place stays in business, so to speak, ugh… Has or have there been any weeks where none of the club membership has turned up for a day or more? If that makes sense."

"Almost all of the members are either in the same age group as you or slightly older. Whatever reason that they have for not turning up one day, might be because they attend college, or they have something more important planned for the day. And if you are wondering about it, they do give us a quick call to let us know what's up."

That's the third question in general out of the way. Let's see how many more I've got in my notebook. Oh. I've only got one more. Ah well, it doesn't matter in the long run. I mean, so what if I only wrote down two questions in my notebook? I had thought carefully about them. And I don't want to take up Steve's time by bombarding him with too many. Looking back down at my final written question, I felt a bit more nervous about saying this one aloud then the past three. But here goes nothing.

"Do you think I would get on with any of the members here? It's just because I'm Autistic, and quiet and shy. And I'm not good at being sociable with people, let alone ones who're close to me in age."

For the next 5-10 mins, Steve told me about the basic personalities and behaviours of each individual club member. Oscar was similar to me in being both shy and quiet. Connor and Bill were twin brothers, who were friendly and outgoing. Martha was one of the only two girls in the club. She liked to keep to herself most of the time. Yasmine was the other girl in the club, Steve said she was very much of a tomboy. Andrew and Ryan were last. From what I could tell from Steve's description of them, they were inseparable best buds who, like the twins, were friendly and outgoing. But somewhat hyperactive as well.

Now came the time for the big moment. The climax of this appointment. Did I want to join Film Central or not? No. Because it was kind of scary going from enjoying some me time at home to suddenly going out of the house to come here and make short films, as well as having to socialise with people that were probably much more confident with being themselves than I was. But wasn't it also scary for me to suddenly go from my normal routine at home, to arranging an appointment for this club in under an hour?

In my mind's eye, I was torn by my internal decisions about joining this club. But if I could manage to successfully attend this appointment by myself without any verbal mistakes, then what harm could there be if I spend a few days as a member of this film club?

Sigh. Alright. I'll give it a go and see where it takes me.

After putting my notebook back into my rucksack, then zipping it up, I gave Steve my answer concerning the club. "From what you've told me about it, and… Having seen the fun your members had making their films… I think that me joining this club will be good for my mental health. Because although, I'm not good at being sociable and making friends, I want to do so anyway. Especially because I'm at a low point in my life, because of what I had to endure at school. Sorry for giving you a long-drawn-out answer. I just wanted to get all that off my chest."

"Don't be sorry, Felix." replied Steve. "I understand that your feeling nervous about being in a totally new environment, one that you had never even heard of until yesterday. I can also understand if you have trouble making small talk or even eye contact, because you think if you don't, you'll be looked down upon by other people." Yes! That was exactly how I usually felt about whenever I didn't do either of those two things.

"Anyway, I'm glad to hear you want to join up to improve your social confidence. Welcome aboard." He quickly turned his head to look up at the clock which was mounted on the top of the wall on the right of the room. "That's the time at just after 5 minutes past 11. I haven't heard anyone come through the hallway outside. Would you be comfortable spending some more time here, just to get more used to it and learn how to use the editing software that we use for our film's?"

I was almost tempted to say no. but before I could give him any kind of answer, a knock at the door distracted us both.

Steve got up from his chair at his desk and walked over to answer the door. When he opened it, both he and I were greeted by three new faces: two boys and one girl. The tallest of the two boys spoke first, "Sorry we're a wee bit late, Steve. Me and Ryan were chatting too much when the three of us were all on the bus. We ended up chatting for so long that we forgot to get off at our stop."

"Yep. And Martha here was trying her damn hardest to get our attention, when she too missed the stop as well. We had to walk all the way here from the next stop after that." The shorter boy, Ryan, turned to the girl on the other boy's left, "No need to thank me for adding your side of things." The girl, who was obviously Martha, rolled her eyes at him while the taller boy snickered to himself. That one must be Andrew.

Steve, on the other hand, wasn't amused. "Never mind who said what Ryan. The point is that you, Martha and Andrew are here now. By the way, this is Felix." He gestured to me. "He's the newest recruit. So, I want you three to be nice to him and help him out if he's unsure about what to do here at any point." The trio all nodded.

I instinctively got up from my seat and walked over to the three, offering my hand to them. "Hi I'm… Felix. Nice to meet you all." Andrew was the first one to take my hand and shake it, before Ryan and Martha followed suit. "Likewise, Felix." said Andrew. I kept my head bowed low, both due to my anxiety over meeting new people, and the inferiority complex I have when I'm near a person much taller than me.

…

Now the rest of my time there today wasn't so bad. Andrew, Martha and Ryan were being nice to me and making sure that I felt welcome. None of the other club members had shown up yet. In a way, I was glad they didn't. Getting to know the three members who had turned up today was enough for me to work on, not to mention it will serve as a smoother transition for me in joining this film club.

As for my current thoughts about the trio…

Martha really was the kind of girl who liked to keep to herself, but she could be very polite and well mannered when you engage in a conversation with her.

Ryan and Andrew did seem to be inseparable from one another. They also seemed like the kind of lads who liked engage in friendly banter with people, but they knew when it was their turn to shut up and/or leave the person they were talking too alone. So, it was a good thing that they also knew when to leave me alone if I ever felt uncomfortable talking to them.

All in all, I seemed to have made a wise choice in joining Film Central.

That was until, a few minutes later, I was in the building's toilets feeling queasy. I felt queasy because I was overwhelmed at how fast things had happened in the past hour. I started punching myself hard in the stomach, so that I would make myself sick and then take care of that hassle so I would feel better afterward. But how can hurting myself be good for me?

I stopped punching my stomach for a moment, when my belly gurgled slightly. Fortunately, I didn't feel anything rise up through my throat. My tummy was probably only gurgling as a way of telling me that its had enough physical pain for one day.

Leaning my back against the wooden stall of the cubicle I was in, I slowly slid down to sit on the floor. My legs were stretched out in front of me, resting on the hard ground. My arms lay lifelessly by my sides. I tilted my head to the right of me.

"Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale." I repeated those two words until I eventually took them to heart.

As I was doing this, I accidently triggered a memory of one of the worst times I was bullied by Bridge.

…

WOMKEETCH!

A plain white football had whacked itself into the side of the bench I was sitting at in my primary school's playground. I heard a ruckus amount of laughter emit from a small group of boys my age who were in the nearby field. Looking at them directly, I was able to confirm my suspicions about who the ring leader was: Bridge!

This was not going to turn out well for me.

I quickly turned my head away from them, peering intently at the table surface which was cojoined to the bench I was sitting on. My arms were laid out on top of said surface, fingers twitching anxiously before I brought them up to rub through my hair. I heard some running footsteps come from the same direction I had seen the group of boys in.

What I heard immediately after confirmed that the worst bit to come had arrived to haunt me. "Alright, Felix." sneered Bridge. "I didn't mean to scare ya with the ball a moment ago." The ape couldn't have been anymore patronising in that sentence, even if he tried.

"Okay. No harm done." I answered back, the anxiety ever present in my tone of voice.

"Of course, it's okay!" Bridge replied before taking a step closer to me. "Can you give me the ball back now?" Give it back to him? When he was the dimwit who purposely lost it in the first place? Surely, it would've landed a few feet away from the bench after the impact that anyone of his crew could've gone and picked it up themselves. But no. It was underneath the bench, in between the tips of my trainer clad feet.

Ah well. It's easily fixed. I lightly kicked the ball out from underneath the bench with my right foot. There! Now Bridge has gotten his ball back! Hopefully he'll leave me alone now. "When I said "Give the ball back to me.", I meant for you to give it to me with your own bare hands."

"B-b-but it's right at your feet!" I protested.

"I don't care. Pick it up!" he ordered.

I knew he was trying to put dominance over me. But I didn't have the guts to stand up to him either way. So, I did as I was told. I got up from my seat, walked a step or two near Bridge, bent down to grab the football from the ground, leant back up, and handed it to Bridge without looking him in the eye. He snatched it from my grasp, startling me, then he ran back off to join his pals to continue their match. Didn't even thank me for giving the ball back to him, when he could've easily done it himself. At least he's gone now.

Just as I was about to sit back down at the bench, the same ball from earlier hit me directly in the centre of my back, sending me tumbling head first onto the stone covered ground, scratching my face and dirtying my uniform. As soon as this happened, I heard guffaws come from Bridge and his cronies. They were practically wetting themselves with laughter at the utter agony I was experiencing. The heartless bastards!

…

Even with all the anger inside of me, anger that was only strengthened due to incidents like that happening to me constantly, I never once personally did anything about them. Course, there were the teachers who punished the bad boys whenever their antics were reported. But how many teachers nowadays ever bother to do things like that? If anything, some of them might even encourage the bullying! What is this world coming to? I ask you.

…

Immediately after I came out of the toilet, I walked back to Steve's office and told him I wasn't feeling up to staying in the building for much longer. So, I asked if it was alright for me to go back home. Luckily for me, Steve was understanding. Before I was just about to leave however, he told me to phone Melanie in the morning to let her know if I was going to attend tomorrow's session or not, so that she can then relay my answer back to him.

When I walked back to the town centre to wait for my bus home, I took notice of my surroundings. The centre itself seemed to have doubled in the number of wandering citizens that were roaming the area. Traffic was the same as well. I waited for just over fifteen minutes for the bus to arrive.

…

Ironic of how one day, the weather can start out beautiful and vibrant, only to then turn miserable and wet later in the evening. I was currently looking at the torrential downpour from my bedroom window. Good thing I'm safe and sound in my home as well as dry.

I settled myself into bed, tucking my quilt snugly over my body. The time was 10pm. When I came home from town earlier, I had chosen that specific time to be the new bedtime limit for me, because of the early starts at Film Central. Had I really made the right decision in joining that club? My first unofficial day there had ended on a low note. But that was just the first day. There will be others. Others…

Although the first three club members I met today seemed like good people, I was afraid in case the same couldn't be said about the other four. But I can worry about all that later. For now, the most important thing for me to do is sleep. And so, I did.

My reaction to becoming a film club member may have been more than a little anxious. But one thing I knew for certain was that my future was turning out the way I wanted it to be. Slowly, but surely.