Today’s words: Asylum, iPod, Night, Showcase
Word count: 821
Completion time: 50 minutes
Summary: Ron had no idea how to initiate a friendship, so how was he going to start a relationship with someone he’d never spoken to before?
--
Every lunch or break time that Ron had between lessons would be spent watching Brandon. What were people saying to him? How was he reacting? What kind of things made him laugh? He wanted to make him laugh...but he was no good at jokes, and he didn’t understand why the things that people were saying to him were funny either.
It felt like he was looking through glass walls at everyone but they couldn’t see him because he lived in a different world. People thought he was strange, but to be honest, he thought that everyone else had recently been released from an asylum. His wires weren’t connected differently, theirs were. Everyone else was so...different, even Brandon. So why did he intrigue him so much? Maybe it was because he wore an Adventure Time t-shirt once, or that he’s good on a BMX, or maybe because he makes his own lunches from scratch. He was only sixteen, how could he cook so well?
Every break time, Ron would turn on his iPod, put some soft jazz on and just observe. He found out pretty quickly that people don’t really talk to you if you’ve got your earphones in, even if no music is playing, but jazz made him feel at ease so that would usually be playing. It felt good to live in his own head, but Ron desperately wanted to make friends...but how did people do that?
At night before bed, he would stand in front of his bedroom mirror and initiate conversations with himself. He said a few things, imagined how Brandon would react, and beamed at his reflection before letting it fall into an irritated frown. It took Ron another year before he admitted his true feelings – he wanted to get together with Brandon.
“How can I make this happen if I can’t even talk to him?”
Ron thought about romance movies: usually people flirt a little even if they’re not proper friends, they ask them on a date, then they kiss. It sounded pretty basic, but he may as well have been trying to figure out the meaning of life.
The following week at college...
“I like your top.” Ron began the first conversation he ever had with Brandon. “It’s...nice.”
He smiled and looked down at the t-shirt he was wearing. “Thank you...? Hey, have we met before, or...?”
“No. Well, we go to the same college, but, we haven’t spoken yet. I’m Ron.”
Brandon tilted his head. “...Brandon.” Ron held his hand out and Brandon took it, shaking it gently. “So what’s up? How can I help you?”
“Help...” he silently pondered the question. There were several ways that Brandon could help him, so it was lucky that he asked. “You could go on a date with me, that would help me out. Only if you want to.”
Brandon opened his mouth to speak but didn’t know how to word it. “Um...is this a joke?”
“No. Why, was it funny?” he looked at him expectantly but couldn’t figure out what he was thinking.
“It’s ‘Ron’, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Listen Ron,” he leaned down and put his mouth close to Ron’s ear. “I don’t know how you found out, but I am not cool with a showcase of my sexuality hanging in every corridor of this institution. As far as you know, I’m not into guys, I’ll never be into guys, I date girls, do you understand? I don’t like guys. At all.” He stood upright again and smiled. “Are we clear?”
“Not really. Found out what? Are you straight? I didn’t know. I just didn’t know how to tell you...I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“Like I said, as far as you know, I’m straight.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Fucking hell!” Brandon sighed, pushing past Ron. “Stay away from me, don’t talk to me again.”
Ron stood in the same spot for several minutes, trying to decipher what had happened and failing.
He was used to being on the sidelines, but that was usually by choice, not because someone said to stay away. Was it possible to stay even further away than he had before?
People would always moan about unrequited love but he had no idea that it would hurt as much as it did. What made it worse was that he couldn’t wrap his head around what he had said to offend Brandon. It was as if everything he said had a 95% chance of being laced with poison. Was it wise to open his mouth at all?
From then on, any time he saw Brandon, he immediately turned his head and raised the volume of the music to drown everything out: Brandon’s face, Brandon’s words, and his feelings that refused to ease their grip on his chest every time he took a breath.
He was poisonous, a danger to society...maybe he was the one who should be locked away from everyone else, not them.
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Thursday, 3 April 2014
Thursday, 27 March 2014
#100 - Noah
Today’s words: Purchase, Classy, Grey, Comfortable
Word count: 1,343
Completion: An hour and a half...ish
Summary: A boy on the autism spectrum decides to withdraw from everyone due to fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, until he reaches his late 20s and concludes that he needs to make a change
--
1 in 100 people have an autism spectrum disorder (which Asperger’s is included in), so if you’d like to find out more about autism or Asperger’s, please do your research.
To write this, I watched a film (‘Adam’, made in 2009, very good), spoke to two people with Asperger’s, and looked at this website: http://www.autism.org.uk/About-autism/Autism-and-Asperger-syndrome-an-introduction/What-is-Asperger-syndrome.aspx, but I am not even close to being a reliable resource for autism.
--
Based on a true story...
“I had a really good time tonight, Noah.”
“I had a good time too. So...I’ll see you on Monday.” Noah turned to leave, putting both hands in his jacket pocket.
Becky raised her eyebrows and held a hand out. “Where are you going?”
He turned back to face her with a smile. “...Home. The night’s over, right?”
“Yeah but, don’t you want to say anything?”
He twisted his mouth and tried to think of something to say. “Like what?”
A few seconds passed before she stuttered: “...Noah, do you like me?”
What a weird question, he thought. “Of course I like you, you’re my friend.”
“Your friend?” Particular emphasis on the word ‘friend’.
“Yeah...”
She looked down and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand.
“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”
“I...I just thought you liked me.”
“I do like you!” He didn’t know what else he could say to get the point across.
“You know what I mean,” she said, storming off and leaving Noah standing outside the cinema.
He didn’t. To Noah, the word ‘like’ only meant one thing – ‘like’. He enjoyed Becky’s company, she was nice, funny, and she didn’t make fun of him: that meant that he liked her, didn’t it? What was he supposed to say? He didn’t know. He never knew what should or shouldn’t be said.
The following week, he realised that what he said had made her feel bad when two of her friends came up to him during lunchtime.
“Hey, Noah!” One of Becky’s friends, Rachel, waltzed up to the bench that he was sitting on, followed by another girl that he thought was called Lorna.
“Hi, Rachel.”
“What have you said to Becky?” Rachel put her hand on the wall behind him and lifted one leg onto the bench, staring at him over the rims of her glasses.
“Nothing, I haven’t seen her today,” Noah said as he continued to eat his sandwich.
“I mean the other night, on your date, what did you say to her?”
“Date?” It was supposed to be a date?
“You said you liked her,” Lorna spoke up before she knocked his lunchbox from his lap.
He stared at the food scattered on the ground and then back up at Lorna. “Lorna, I do like her.”
“Then why did she ring me in tears saying that you turned her down?”
“Turn her down? How? I said I liked her.” It was just like the other night – people didn’t seem to understand the word ‘like’.
“You can’t say that you like a girl and then say that you just want to be friends.” Rachel this time.
Now that really didn’t make sense to Noah. “Friends like each other, right? You girls, you both like each other because you’re friends.”
“Don’t try to be funny with us, Noah.”
“I’m not? Look, maybe there’s a misunderstanding or--”
“You damn right there is.”
Rachel forced him forward by his collar and slammed the back of his head into the brick wall twice whilst Lorna kicked him in the shins and grabbed his hair.
“You don’t play with girls’ feelings like that!”
After a while, a teacher came to break it up.
That wasn’t the first time he’d had miscommunications with people that upset them, nor the first time that he was bullied, whether it was due to those miscommunications or not.
It felt like any time he opened his mouth to speak, he’d end up offending someone or causing an argument or a fight. He came to the conclusion at fifteen that he felt a lot more comfortable keeping his mouth shut altogether, then no-one could have a go at him. Turns out, though, that staying silent when people want you to talk can also cause agitation. He couldn’t win and knowing that he couldn’t win, he got depressed and his once colourful life turned completely grey.
He dropped out of school, never went to college, and went away with no GCSEs or any qualifications that employers would be interested in. It didn’t matter; even if he was qualified for jobs, he was sure that he wouldn’t even make it past the interview stage. How was he supposed to greet them? What was he supposed to talk about? Did he smile? Was that right or too friendly? What was a right balance between classy and casual? How would he get a job if even people from school didn’t accept him for who he was? How would people ever understand that he couldn’t help it, that he had Asperger’s syndrome?
Noah became incredibly isolated from everyone, even his parents, until eventually he didn’t leave the house for three years. Not to see friends, purchase new clothes, buy groceries, nothing. He wouldn’t touch his front door, let alone open it for anyone. He felt like the only one who understood him was right there, so why did he need to leave? Why did he need to open himself up for more abuse, more scrutiny, more misunderstandings? Sure, it would be easy to say try, but he did try, he’d been trying to figure things out his whole life but all it got him was black eyes, broken teeth, and severed friendships.
Never again, he thought, never again would he open himself up to anyone. That’s what he thought – that he would always have himself and no-one else for company, and that’s the way he’d force himself to like it.
He still used his computer but rarely to speak to people, just to do some personal research and watch a few TV shows or movies. One Sunday evening, he came across the TV show The X Files and decided to check it out, being a fan of most things sci-fi. In nine months, he had watched all 202 episodes (nine series) and movies. As the last series drew to a close, he felt something stir within him that he couldn’t identify; something about the characters and the way that they acted moved him.
The credits rolled and when they were done, he opened Word and started typing out a screenplay. He didn’t know what it was about, where it was going, or how to even structure a screenplay but he wrote and wrote for a week until he’d finished 70 pages. Afterwards, he stared at the screen and cried for hours.
When he was done, he felt like a new man.
How could something like a fictional TV show be enough to help him? He didn’t know, but it did. Once his tears were all gone, he phoned his parents to tell them what had happened and decided to restart his life the day after.
It wasn’t easy – he’d been without social interaction for three years and he’d felt depressed longer than he’d been physically isolated. He had lived with Asperger’s since he was a child, but maybe it was easier to get a better grip on being depressed, he thought, since that was partly what made him remove himself from peoples’ company. Yes, he was still depressed, but he felt like a weight had been lifted ever since The X Files was completed.
He was on the road to recovery.
Noah stepped outside for the first time in years. It didn’t feel right, but he kept on walking to the closest corner shop, keeping his head down and making sure not to hang around for too long.
Day one – success.
After day fifty-two, he felt almost like himself again.
The next year, he attempted and passed his driving test, and started an Access course so that he could go to university. He was in his late 20’s but who cared? He was doing something with his life, something that he’d always wanted but was too scared to do before, and it felt great.
He might not always understand what people are thinking, and he is still struggling with being depressed some days, but he’s glad that he managed to climb out of that hole and take control of his life.
Word count: 1,343
Completion: An hour and a half...ish
Summary: A boy on the autism spectrum decides to withdraw from everyone due to fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, until he reaches his late 20s and concludes that he needs to make a change
--
1 in 100 people have an autism spectrum disorder (which Asperger’s is included in), so if you’d like to find out more about autism or Asperger’s, please do your research.
To write this, I watched a film (‘Adam’, made in 2009, very good), spoke to two people with Asperger’s, and looked at this website: http://www.autism.org.uk/About-autism/Autism-and-Asperger-syndrome-an-introduction/What-is-Asperger-syndrome.aspx, but I am not even close to being a reliable resource for autism.
--
Based on a true story...
“I had a really good time tonight, Noah.”
“I had a good time too. So...I’ll see you on Monday.” Noah turned to leave, putting both hands in his jacket pocket.
Becky raised her eyebrows and held a hand out. “Where are you going?”
He turned back to face her with a smile. “...Home. The night’s over, right?”
“Yeah but, don’t you want to say anything?”
He twisted his mouth and tried to think of something to say. “Like what?”
A few seconds passed before she stuttered: “...Noah, do you like me?”
What a weird question, he thought. “Of course I like you, you’re my friend.”
“Your friend?” Particular emphasis on the word ‘friend’.
“Yeah...”
She looked down and wiped her eyes with the back of one hand.
“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”
“I...I just thought you liked me.”
“I do like you!” He didn’t know what else he could say to get the point across.
“You know what I mean,” she said, storming off and leaving Noah standing outside the cinema.
He didn’t. To Noah, the word ‘like’ only meant one thing – ‘like’. He enjoyed Becky’s company, she was nice, funny, and she didn’t make fun of him: that meant that he liked her, didn’t it? What was he supposed to say? He didn’t know. He never knew what should or shouldn’t be said.
The following week, he realised that what he said had made her feel bad when two of her friends came up to him during lunchtime.
“Hey, Noah!” One of Becky’s friends, Rachel, waltzed up to the bench that he was sitting on, followed by another girl that he thought was called Lorna.
“Hi, Rachel.”
“What have you said to Becky?” Rachel put her hand on the wall behind him and lifted one leg onto the bench, staring at him over the rims of her glasses.
“Nothing, I haven’t seen her today,” Noah said as he continued to eat his sandwich.
“I mean the other night, on your date, what did you say to her?”
“Date?” It was supposed to be a date?
“You said you liked her,” Lorna spoke up before she knocked his lunchbox from his lap.
He stared at the food scattered on the ground and then back up at Lorna. “Lorna, I do like her.”
“Then why did she ring me in tears saying that you turned her down?”
“Turn her down? How? I said I liked her.” It was just like the other night – people didn’t seem to understand the word ‘like’.
“You can’t say that you like a girl and then say that you just want to be friends.” Rachel this time.
Now that really didn’t make sense to Noah. “Friends like each other, right? You girls, you both like each other because you’re friends.”
“Don’t try to be funny with us, Noah.”
“I’m not? Look, maybe there’s a misunderstanding or--”
“You damn right there is.”
Rachel forced him forward by his collar and slammed the back of his head into the brick wall twice whilst Lorna kicked him in the shins and grabbed his hair.
“You don’t play with girls’ feelings like that!”
After a while, a teacher came to break it up.
That wasn’t the first time he’d had miscommunications with people that upset them, nor the first time that he was bullied, whether it was due to those miscommunications or not.
It felt like any time he opened his mouth to speak, he’d end up offending someone or causing an argument or a fight. He came to the conclusion at fifteen that he felt a lot more comfortable keeping his mouth shut altogether, then no-one could have a go at him. Turns out, though, that staying silent when people want you to talk can also cause agitation. He couldn’t win and knowing that he couldn’t win, he got depressed and his once colourful life turned completely grey.
He dropped out of school, never went to college, and went away with no GCSEs or any qualifications that employers would be interested in. It didn’t matter; even if he was qualified for jobs, he was sure that he wouldn’t even make it past the interview stage. How was he supposed to greet them? What was he supposed to talk about? Did he smile? Was that right or too friendly? What was a right balance between classy and casual? How would he get a job if even people from school didn’t accept him for who he was? How would people ever understand that he couldn’t help it, that he had Asperger’s syndrome?
Noah became incredibly isolated from everyone, even his parents, until eventually he didn’t leave the house for three years. Not to see friends, purchase new clothes, buy groceries, nothing. He wouldn’t touch his front door, let alone open it for anyone. He felt like the only one who understood him was right there, so why did he need to leave? Why did he need to open himself up for more abuse, more scrutiny, more misunderstandings? Sure, it would be easy to say try, but he did try, he’d been trying to figure things out his whole life but all it got him was black eyes, broken teeth, and severed friendships.
Never again, he thought, never again would he open himself up to anyone. That’s what he thought – that he would always have himself and no-one else for company, and that’s the way he’d force himself to like it.
He still used his computer but rarely to speak to people, just to do some personal research and watch a few TV shows or movies. One Sunday evening, he came across the TV show The X Files and decided to check it out, being a fan of most things sci-fi. In nine months, he had watched all 202 episodes (nine series) and movies. As the last series drew to a close, he felt something stir within him that he couldn’t identify; something about the characters and the way that they acted moved him.
The credits rolled and when they were done, he opened Word and started typing out a screenplay. He didn’t know what it was about, where it was going, or how to even structure a screenplay but he wrote and wrote for a week until he’d finished 70 pages. Afterwards, he stared at the screen and cried for hours.
When he was done, he felt like a new man.
How could something like a fictional TV show be enough to help him? He didn’t know, but it did. Once his tears were all gone, he phoned his parents to tell them what had happened and decided to restart his life the day after.
It wasn’t easy – he’d been without social interaction for three years and he’d felt depressed longer than he’d been physically isolated. He had lived with Asperger’s since he was a child, but maybe it was easier to get a better grip on being depressed, he thought, since that was partly what made him remove himself from peoples’ company. Yes, he was still depressed, but he felt like a weight had been lifted ever since The X Files was completed.
He was on the road to recovery.
Noah stepped outside for the first time in years. It didn’t feel right, but he kept on walking to the closest corner shop, keeping his head down and making sure not to hang around for too long.
Day one – success.
After day fifty-two, he felt almost like himself again.
The next year, he attempted and passed his driving test, and started an Access course so that he could go to university. He was in his late 20’s but who cared? He was doing something with his life, something that he’d always wanted but was too scared to do before, and it felt great.
He might not always understand what people are thinking, and he is still struggling with being depressed some days, but he’s glad that he managed to climb out of that hole and take control of his life.
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