English Class Short Story: Character intensity

Something about the surrounding landscape was startling, but placing exactly what it was wasn't exactly a top priority to the boy running headlong down the trail. As he ran he wasn't really looking around, probably accounting for the lack of interest in his immediate surroundings. The trail only he saw, was one that he would never take again, though he'd pass along the same route many times, and he'd never taken this way, though he'd been by these places. How he could do this, and know with certainty he'd never pass the same way, most people wouldn't understand, until they looked at where he was and what it was exactly he was doing.
Each step was all he knew, the only thing, no trail existing more than three steps ahead and certainly nothing behind. He's concentrated fully, and unless you were to call his name, he wouldn't have noticed you had you been standing off to the side. The movement was fluid, though singularly every movement was unplanned, nothing premeditated, and of course, never the same. To look at him one might wonder what sort of life he lead, to have been able to learn to move like that, no hesitation, no second thoughts, not even thoughts at all. It was a reactive state, though he wasn't ever taking it in, reactive at a biological level, overriding the slow process of thought.
Out on a different level, his mind still working, but separate from his body as he tried to find the cause of his unease. Moving on the silence became luxuriant as again the last element of mental chatter lapsed into silence while he scanned his unconscious for answers. This was the kind of state he enjoyed. The moments where action developed without thought, and spontaneous living was created. It was like being a newborn, he mused, to find each moment a new exciting thing, and to marvel at it as it passed, then to wave to it goodbye and the process starts anew all over again.