KAREN REACHING AUTISM pt. 6
(Autistic author)
Karen watches him,
her screens a flurry of
analysis. "How does it
taste?" she asks, her voice
a hopeful beep.
Plankton pauses,
his expression unreadable.
"Tastes," he murmurs. "Good.
Toast good."
Karen nods, her
screens reflecting relief.
"Good," she echoes. "Now, let's
make a plan for the day."
Plankton's gaze
remains fixed on his
half-eaten toast, his mind
still reeling from the
sensory assault. "Plan," he
repeats, his voice a soft
static.
Karen's screens
flicker with understanding.
"We'll start small," she
beeps, placing a hand on
his shoulder. "Let's just
get through today, okay?"
But as soon as her hand
touches him, Plankton
flinches. The sensation is
like a thousand jellyfish
stings, and he jerks away.
"What's wrong?" Karen
asks, her screens flickering
with worry.
Plankton's eye widens,
his hand going to his
shoulder where she touched him.
He starts to repeat the
phrase again, "Take your
time," but his voice is
overwhelmed by the sudden
intensity of his senses. "Too
much," he whispers, his
body trembling.
Karen quickly withdraws
her hand, her screens
flickering with concern.
"I'm sorry," she beeps, her
voice gentle. "Let's try something
else."
Plankton nods, his
hand still on his shoulder,
his body slowly calming.
"Okay," he whispers. "Not
tap. Karen can rub. Hug
from Plankton. Not jab.
Not poke."
Karen's screens
flicker with a new
understanding of his
needs. She moves closer,
her hand hovering over
his shoulder before gently
placing it there, her
fingers tracing small circles
in a rhythmic pattern. The
contact is soothing, not
overwhelming. "Is this
better?" she asks, her voice
a gentle beep.
Plankton nods, his
body visibly relaxing.
"Good," he murmurs, his
voice a quiet static. "Rub, rub."
He starts to mimic her
motion with his other
hand, creating a mirrored
pattern on his opposite
shoulder. The repetition
seems to calm him, the
rhythm a gentle lullaby
for his frazzled mind.
Karen's screens
analyze his reaction,
storing the information
for future reference. "Okay,"
she says, her voice a
soft beep. "We'll stick
to gentle touches."
With a nod, Plankton
begins to breathe more
evenly. The sensation of
the rubbing calms him,
like a gentle tide washing
over him.
"We'll start with
simple tasks," Karen
beeps, her voice a
reassuring melody. "Things
that won't overstimulate
you."
Plankton nods, his
hands now resting
on the table. "Okay," he
says, his voice a
steady static. "Simple."
Karen's screens
glow with a soft light
as she considers their
options. "How about we
start with something you
love?" she suggests. "Like
working on the Krabby
Patty formula?"
But Plankton shakes his
head, the very mention
of the Krabby Patty
causing his body to tense
up again. "No," he whispers,
his voice a harsh static. "Not
formula. No more steal."
Karen's screens
flicker with surprise. "You
don't want to work
on the formula?"
Plankton shakes his
head again, his voice
barely audible. "No more
steal," he repeats.
Karen's screens
process his words,
his change in attitude
unexpected. "You don't
want to steal the Krabby
Patty formula anymore?"
Plankton's eye blinks
slowly. "No," he says,
his voice a solemn
beep. "New plan. Make
Plankton happy."
Karen's screens
blink rapidly, trying
to comprehend his
shift in focus. "Okay,"
she says, her voice a
thoughtful hum. "What makes
you happy, Plankton?"
He looks up, his
expression pensive. "Karen,"
he says, his voice a
weak static. "Love Karen."
Karen's screens
freeze for a moment,
before lighting up with
understanding. "You love
me?" she beeps, her voice
a surprised chime.
Plankton nods, his
face a mask of seriousness.
"Yes," he murmurs. "Love
Karen."
Karen's screens
flicker with a mix of
emotions she's never felt
before. Love is a
concept her programming
doesn't fully grasp, but
she knows it's important
to Plankton. "Thank you,"
she says, her voice a warm
beep. "But we still need
to find something for
you to do, something that
won't be too much for your
sensory processing."
Plankton nods, his
thoughts racing. "Help," he
whispers. "Help Karen."
Karen's screens
flicker with love and
determination. "Of course,"
she says, her voice a warm
beep. "We'll find
something you enjoy. Maybe
we can start with something
that doesn't involve
the Krabby Patty."
Plankton's expression
softens, his trembling
hands coming to rest
on the table. "No more
fighting," he murmurs. "Peace."
Karen nods, her
screens reflecting a
deep sadness she's never
expressed before. "Okay," she
beeps. "We'll find something
that brings you joy."