The R Project

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 In passing they'd laugh at me, as I sat at my table all alone. I'd alway tell my self that this is what I'd wanted: isolation from my high school peers. It would be hard to turn back now. Once autistic, always autistic. People would start to ask questions.No, it's easier this way.

The bell's loud ringing brought me out of my thoughts. I picked up tray, and carried it up to the conveyor belt--successfully, and without any pushing or intentional tray shoving. I stood and watched the conveyor belt for a minute. It kept moving no matter how carelessly a student dropped their tray on it. That same perpetioul movement hypnotized me. A kid waved his hand in front of my face, as if to draw me out of a trance. He snickered to his friend, and then kicked me in the shin.

I winced, but kept silent, because I needed to stay in character.He uttered an insulting comment and the sauntered out of the cafeteria. Lovely boy

I considered my self a good actress because no one had ever suspected that I wasn't who I seemed to be. No one ever thought twice about the autistic girl in the corner who never spoke to anyone. Ever. They couldn't even be bothered to come up with cleverly mean remarks. All I ever got was:

"retard"

"Freak"

or " how's life on the short bus?"

Nothing that took an ounce to make up. Never anything that i let get to me.

Despite my talent for the craft, I had never dreamed of pursuing a career in acting. I had stumbled upon this "role" because I was terribly shy. A mere hello would make me shake. I didn't know how to respond to it. Should I say hello, hi, yo, hiya, or even hola?I wouldn't participate in class even if I knew the answer. In turn people started to forget about me. My parents started to worry about my "mental state" so I played along. I feigned autism and have been living the lie ever since the fourth grade. I took the special ed classed. I did a lot of research to make sure I was believable.

This ruse became morbidly fun. It started to become an experiment. I watched the way people acted around me and took notes of it. I kept these notes in a moleskine notebook secured with a lock that I wore around my neck. My research told me that austistic kids often feel special attachments to certain objects. My parents also did some research--being the good parents that they are--and so they realised it was best to leave the key alone. My secret was safe until I otherwise wanted it to be.

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 24, 2011 ⏰

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