NO LESS TO BE DIFFERENT iii
(Autistic author)
The door creaks
open, and Karen turned to see
Hannapoking her
head in. Hanna's never met Plankton.
"Hi, Karen," Hanna called,
warm and cheerful. "How's the
Chum Bucket running today?"
Karen forced a smile
at the sight of Hanna.
She hadn't told anyone about
Plankton's condition yet. "Oh, you
know," she said,
trying to keep her tone light. "Just
another day."
Plankton's eye snapped up at
the sound of Hanna's voice, his
gaze intense. Karen felt a flicker
of anxiety. Would he be able to
handle the unpredictability of
a guest?
"Plankton, this is Hanna," Karen
introduced.
"Hanna, this is my husband, Plankton.
I’m going to clean up the yard."
As Karen left, Hanna's screen lit up.
"The one and only!"
she exclaimed, moving in for
a hug.
Plankton recoiled at the
sudden physical contact.
"No touch,"
he said, a sudden
snap of command.
Hanna, taken aback, froze. "Oh, I-I'm
sorry," she stammered.
"No touch," he repeated in a way that was
both defensive and pleading.
Hanna took a
step back, her smile faltering.
Plankton's eye darted around the
room, his breaths shallow and
quick. The sudden intrusion into
his personal space had triggered
a storm of sensory overload, his
brain struggling to process the
unexpected contact.
"I'm sorry," Hanna began. "No touch!"
His voice was a whipcrack in the
silence, his body tensing.
Hanna's smile had disappeared
completely, replaced by a look of
confusion and concern. "Plankton,
I didn't mean to upset you," she said.
"Can we start over?"
But Plankton's agitation only
grew. "No touch!" he snapped
again. Hanna took in his
distress.
"I'm sorry," she
stuttered, her voice tentative.
But Plankton's gaze remained
fixed on the spot where her hand
had been, his body a taut wire of
frustration. "No touch," he murmured,
his voice a mix of anger and fear.
Hanna's trying to
understand, her own emotions a
whirlwind of confusion and
concern. "I didn't know."
"No touch,"
he whispered.
"What's
going on, Plankton?" she asked.
"You're
scaring me."
"No touch," he
repeated, his body now vibrating
with tension.
Hanna felt her own
frustration rising. "I said sorry,"
she retorted, her voice rising. "What
more do you want?"
Plankton's antennae shot up,
his whole body quivering.
"Understand!" he bellowed, the
word no longer a mere echo
but a demand. "Understand!"
"Plankton,
what's happening to you?"
"Understand," he spat. "Need to...
understand!"
"I don't get it,
Plankton," she said. "What do
you want from me?"
"No touch!"
he shouted. The cucumber
slices bounced off the plate,
scattering across the floor.
"What's wrong
with you?" she demanded, her own
anger rising. "Why
are you acting like this?"
But Plankton's rage had
overtaken him, his need to be
understood like a wildfire in his
mind. "Need to... understand!"
he yelled, his voice a desperate
cry in the storm of his emotions.
Hanna felt a wave of anger
crash over her. "I don't get it!"
she exclaimed, voice rising.
"What's your problem?"
"No touch!" he screamed again,
his body a coil of tension.
"Why are you acting like this?"
she demanded, her voice sharp.
"What's wrong with a simple
hello?"
Plankton's head snapped up, his
eye locking onto hers. "Wrong,"
he said, the word a hiss. "Wrong!"
"What do you mean, 'wrong'?"
she challenged. "You're the one
freaking out over a hug!"
But Plankton was lost in
his own world, his brain struggling
to make sense of the chaotic
sensory input. "No touch," he
repeated. "Need... to...
understand!"
"I've had enough
of this!" she shouted, her fists
clenching. "What is your
problem?"
Plankton's eye darted around
the room, his thoughts a blur of
past and present. "Problem,"
he murmured. His hand shot out,
slapping the cucumber plate off
the table, the shatter of porcelain
sharp in the silence.
"Wrong," he murmured again, his
voice a mix of anger and despair.
"Need... to... understand."
Hanna's own anger grew with
each repetition, her voice rising.
"I'm not the one with a problem!"
she shot back. "You're the
one who can't even handle a
hug!"
"Understand!" he
shouted, his body shaking. "Need
to understand!" His hand slammed
on the table again, knocking
over their drinks. The room was
now a battlefield of emotions,
each collision sending shockwaves
through the air.
Hanna's frustration boiling over. "What's
your deal, Plankton?" she spat,
each syllable laced with anger.
But Plankton's fury was a
volcano erupting, his voice a
guttural roar. "Wrong!" he shouted.
"Wrong!" He hugs his knees and
started to rock in stimming,
his body a maelstrom of sensory
overload.
Hanna, unable to comprehend
his distress, felt her own anger
flare. "What's your deal?"
she yelled. "Why can't you just
act normal?"
Plankton's world was
spinning, his senses assaulted by
the sharpness of Hanna's tone.
"No touch," he murmured, his voice
a plea lost in the din of his
thoughts.
Hanna's screen flashed with
irritation. "I said I'm sorry," she
snapped, her voice like a whip.
"What more do you want?"
"No touch,"
he repeated, his voice a
desperate cry for understanding
as he rocked.
Hanna's confusion grew
with each repetition, her
patience wearing as thin as
the tension in the room.
"Why are you doing this?"
she shouted, her voice a
mirror of his own frustration.
Plankton's body was a
tangle of emotion, his
limbs flailing in a desperate
attempt to communicate.
"Wrong," he said, his voice
a tornado of pain. "Need... to...
understand!"
Hanna took a step
back, her face a mask of
disbelief. "What's gotten into
you?" she demanded, her own
anger a match to his. "I didn't
do anything wrong!"
Plankton's eye grew wild, his
body jerking as he tried
to find the words to explain his
pain. "Wrong," he insisted,
his voice a tornado of
frustration. "Need to... understand!"
Hanna's own anger grew
sharp as a knife. "What's your
problem, Plankton?" she yelled.
"You're acting like a maniac, I don’t
know why Karen puts up with this!"
“Karen?” Plankton shook.
The question hung in the air, a
challenge thrown down, a spark in
his eye. Hanna's anger grew,
her voice a crescendo of accusation.
"Your wife loved you, Plankton,
despite your... quirks. Can't you
just be grateful for that? Can’t you
see how much she's trying?"
But Plankton's fury was
a hurricane, his thoughts a
whirlwind of confusion. "Wrong!"
he shouted, his body rigid. "Need
to understand!" The room
vibrated with his pain, his
need to communicate the
storm raging within him.
Hanna's a
gale force of accusation. "What's
your problem?" she screamed,
each word a shard of ice. Plankton's
eye darted around the room,
his antennae trembling with the
overwhelming noise. “If only
Karen knew what a monster
you really are, perhaps she
would leave you!” She yells
loud enough to alarm Karen.
Her words hit him like a
tidal wave, crashing over his
already fractured reality. The
world around him grew distant,
his eye glazed over as he tried to
process the onslaught of emotions.
His body froze, every muscle
locked in place.
Karen, drawn by the commotion,
rushed back inside
with dread. She took in the scene
with a gasp, Hanna's screen flushed with
anger, Plankton's body
a statue of despair. "What's happening?"
she demanded, her screen flicking
from one to the other.
Hanna's gaze met hers, her
voice filled with exhaustion. "Your
husband just lost it
over a simple hug," she told, her
hands still shaking.
Karen took in Plankton's rigid
form. "Oh no," she murmured,
as Hanna notices Plankton and
his unblinking stare.
"What's wrong with him?" Hanna
asked, her anger dissipating in
the face of his sudden stillness.
Karen's with
concern as she rushed to his side.
"It's ok, I've got you."
Plankton's body remained
stiff, his eye unblinking as he
froze in place. Hanna took in
his pallor, the starkness of his
features against the chaos of
the room. "What's going on?"
she whispered, the fight draining
from her voice.
Karen's screen met hers,
desperation etched into her
features. "Hanna, what did
you say to him?" she
pleaded, her voice a
symphony of fear.
Hanna's expression softened
at the sight of Plankton's
frozen form. "I... I didn't
mean to upset him," she
stuttered, her words tripping
over themselves. "I just gave
him a hug, and he went crazy.
He kept saying 'no touch' and
'need to understand'. And I told
him you deserve better, that's all."
Karen's feeling shattered
at the revelation.
Her eyes filled with tears
as she took in Plankton's
lifeless form. “Hanna, tell
me what exactly you said to
about him..”
Hanna, her anger
now replaced with a deep
sorrow, recounted their
interaction, her words
falling like heavy rain.
Karen listened, upsettingly
sinking with each syllable.
"He said 'no touch',
right?" Karen whispered, her
voice a thread of hope. "It's his
way of saying he's overwhelmed."
Hanna nodded, her anger
giving way to worry. "Yes, and
he kept repeating 'need to
understand'. I didn't know what to
do and got frustrated with him, and
I said you deserve a better life."
Karen's gaze never left
Plankton's still form as she
absorbed Hanna's words. The
doctor's voice echoed in her mind:
his autism wasn't a choice,
it was his reality.
"Hanna, please," she said, her
voice a whisper of despair. "He's
not a monster, he's just
different." Hanna's expression
softened, her own filling
with regret.
"I'm sorry, Karen," she said,
her voice a quiet apology. "I
should have known better."
Karen's gaze remained
locked on Plankton, her heart
racing. She knew she had to
help him, had to bring him back
from the edge of this sensory
apocalypse. "It's ok," she
murmured, her voice a gentle
whisper. "It's ok."
Her hand reached out to him,
a bridge of comfort in the
storm of his overwhelmed mind.
"Look at me, Plankton," she
soothed, her voice a soft
lullaby. "I'm here. It's just us."
Slowly, his gaze shifted to her,
his pupil contracting in the
face of her calm. "It's okay,"
she whispered. "You're okay."