Neurogically Different ***DISCONTINUED ON THIS ACCOUNT***

Chapter One: Stupid Words

There are some words and phrases that I think are stupid;

- Special needs, as in "Does she have special needs?"

- High functioning. Just because my disorder isn't as strongly acted upon my brain as other people with autism doesn't mean they're not as smart as I am.

- "Does she have... You know..?" When they ask my mom or my dad what's wrong with me.

- And the classic; "Is there something wrong with her?" Just straight up asking if I have a mental issue.

Nobody says "autism" anymore. I even play a video game with a live chat that blurps out swearwords, apparently like autism or autistic. It's only because it's used as an insult, not just a neurological disorder. My mom says it's because the word makes people feel stupidly uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable that people are stupid enough to think that my disorder is a bad thing because it's not.

My name is Layla Ann Campbell. I have minor autism which means I am apparently about 15% autistic. That's what my mom told me, anyway. My mom seems to know less about autism overall than I do, but she's my mom, she's supposed to know more about it than me so she can react to it better, even when I can't.

My mom, for starters, gets angry when I'm angry, which leads to me getting violent. It's not like I can help myself in the first place, it's like my consciousness shuts down until I've already hit someone or broke something and then I start to cry. I have a lot of things bottled up inside of me that when one small thing happens, I explode, like when vinegar is mixed with baking powder like in the fake volcano during our September Science Fair. At first, I'm like the normal baking powder, calm and collected, just sitting there doing the normal things. Then something, anything randomly happens, and the vinegar is dumped onto me.

I explode. Boom.

I've just started high school. I'm all alone in the Special Needs Room, being taught things I've been taught two or three years ago on just one subject for now. The only other people in this room are Justin Brown, Alyssa Gracen and three of the teachers taught to help the kids with the disorders. Justin has like my mom would say, "about 80% autism." He needs a wheelchair. He can't talk, walk, or hardly even move, but he can smile. He smiles at me all the time, which is the only way he can communicate with me. But he can't even eat by himself. He needs someone to help him open his mouth and put the liquified or mushified food into his mouth, then someone rubs his neck so he can easily swallow it, then they do it again.

But he smiles at me, all the time. I guess you could call us friends, in that respect, since we always smile at each other. If that's the case then he's my only friend. I don't talk to Alyssa because she has an attitude. It annoys me. She has a hard time talking, she talks funny, and she has a limp. But when she talks, she's kinda rude. Always bossing people around and all that, but I don't mind, really. I know she can't help it. She doesn't know better.

But Justin is my favourite out of us all, even the teachers. The teachers don't smile. Justin does. When Justin smiles, it reminds me that he's still awake, his brain still works, that people like him are still human even though not everyone sees it. I wish everyone saw it like I do.

Anyways, I'm still alone. I don't have anybody to talk to, really. I'm hardly noticed. I'm hardly treated like a person. Some students have actually seen me upset, they've seen me break things and flip a desk over. I know they think I'm a monster by the way they look at me in the hallway. The fear in their eyes is justified, though. They don't know me enough to know I'm not at all dangerous, only sad and lonely, and in need of a person who understands and cares.

I'm a person, not a monster. It's simple to understand.

Nobody really notices me, though. Which is fine I guess. Sometimes. I try to talk to people but I'm just an awkward freshman that nobody cares about. Even other freshmen avoid me. I didn't have any friends in grade school, either. I mean when I was younger the kids were innocent and didn't know any better to know that my temper tantrums weren't like everyone else's. When we grew up they realized that I wasn't going to grow out of them anytime soon like they did, my issue was permanent, then they didn't understand I couldn't help it any more than I could before.

They always used my four stupid words. Always. Which makes them just as stupid.