DO YOU TRUST ME pt. 13
๐ ๐๐๐๐๐'๐ ๐ฃ๐๐๐ผ๐
๐บ๐๐๐พ๐ ๐ญ๐๐๐พ
๐ ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต๐ญ๐ฆ๐ต.
๐'๐ฎ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ค๐ต๐ณ๐ถ๐ฎ ๐ฎ๐บ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ง.
๐ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ซ๐ฐ๐บ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ง๐ข๐ฏ๐ง๐ช๐ค ๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ญ๐ถ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ
๐ฎ๐บ ๐ง๐ข๐ท๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ๐ช๐ต๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ
๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ช๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ด ๐'๐ญ๐ญ ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ
๐ง๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ด. ๐๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ
๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ฎ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ต๐ณ๐ช๐จ๐จ๐ฆ๐ณ
๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ถ๐ต๐ช๐ด๐ฎ ๐ช๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ด
๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ช๐ท๐ช๐ฅ๐ถ๐ข๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ญ๐บ. ๐๐ฆ
๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต ๐ข ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ
๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ณ ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐ท๐ข๐ญ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐บ.
๐ ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฎ๐ข๐บ ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ท๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต
๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ง๐ง๐ฆ๐ค๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐บ
๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ค๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด. ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต
๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ช๐ด๐ต ๐ฎ๐ช๐ค๐ณ๐ฐ๐ข๐จ๐จ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด.
๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ.
( emojicombos.com/neurofabulous )
The living room is
dimly lit. But in the center,
a disturbing sight awaits:
Plankton's convulsions,
his tiny body writhing on
the floor. His antennae
twitch erratically, his eye
squeezed shut.
"Plankton!" she cries out,
rushing to his side. His
seizure is intense, his
limbs flailing uncontrollably.
The room seems to pulse
with his distress, a silent
scream of neurological
turmoil.
Chip stands in the doorway,
frozen in shock. He's never
seen his dad like this, so
vulnerable and helpless.
The sight of Plankton's
tiny form convulsing on the
floor fills him with a fear
like none other.
Karen is already beside
Plankton, her hands hovering,
knowing better than to restrict
his thrashing body.
"Mom," Chip says, his voice
trembling. "What do we do?"
Karen's eyes never leave
Plankton's contorted form,
her face a mask of calm
determination. "We stay here,"
she says, her voice steady. "We
keep talking to him, let him
know we care."
Chip nods, his own eyes
filled with fear. He takes a tentative
step forward, his voice shaking.
"Dad," he says softly, "it's me,
Chip." His words are met with
only the sound of Plankton's
labored breathing and the muffled
thuds of his convulsions.
Karen's gaze flicks to Chip,
her expression a mix of pride
and anxiety. "Good boy," she whispers,
before turning back to Plankton.
"Shh, baby," she says, her voice soothing,
like a lullaby in the chaos. "We're
right here."
Chip watches his mom, her
hands a gentle presence near his
dad's body, her voice a lifeline in
the storm of his seizure. He wants
to help, to do something, anything,
but he's paralyzed by fear.
Karen's eyes flicker to her
son, her expression a silent
plea for him to stay calm. She
knows Plankton's sensitivity to
stimuli, the way his condition can
spiral if overwhelmed. "Talk to
him," she whispers, her voice
barely audible over the sounds of
his distress. "Tell him you love him."
Chip nods, his voice shaking.
"Dad," he says, his voice
trembling. "I love you." His
words hang in the air, a soft
contrast to the harsh sounds
of Plankton's seizure.
Plankton's body continues
to convulse, but Karen notices
his antennae twitch slightly,
his eye fluttering open for a
moment before it squeezes shut
again. She sighs with relief,
knowing he can hear them.
"Keep talking," she whispers
to Chip, her eyes never
leaving Plankton. "Tell him
you're here for him, that you're
sorry."
Chip swallows hard, his
throat tight with fear. "Dad, I'm
sorry," he says, his voice
cracking. "I didn't mean to make
things worse."
Plankton's antennae
quiver slightly, his seizure
lessening but not abating.
Karen's eyes are filled with
desperation as she whispers,
"Keep talking, Chip. He needs
to hear it."
Chip's voice is shaky,
his eyes never leaving
his father's trembling form.
"I'm sorry for what I said,"
he murmurs. "I didn't mean
to hurt you." His words
are a gentle coax, trying
to guide Plankton back from
the edge of his breakdown.
Karen's eyes are glued
to Plankton's seizing body,
"It's okay, baby," she says,
her tone a soothing melody.
"You're not alone."
Chip watches his mom's
steady hands hover over
his dad's shaking form.
He takes a deep breath,
his voice a shaky thread.
"I'm sorry," he repeats,
his words a quiet promise.
Karen's eyes flick to him,
a silent thank you. The room
seems to hold its breath,
the air charged with hope and dread.
Plankton's convulsions start
to ease, his breaths coming
in shallower gasps. Karen's hand
reaches out, brushing his
twitching antennae with a gentle
touch, a silent reassurance.
Chip's voice is a soft
whisper, a beacon in the
storm of his father's distress.
"I'm sorry, Dad," he says, his
eyes brimming with tears. "I
don't want to fight."
Karen's hand rests gently
on Plankton's back, her touch
as light as a feather. "It's okay,
sweetie," she says, her voice a
soothing lullaby. "We're
here for you."
Plankton's seizure starts to
subside, his body gradually
stilling. His antennae
drop, his breaths slowing.
The tension in the room
eases like the retreating
waves of a storm.
Karen's hand remains on
his back, her eyes filled
with a love that's fierce
and tender. "It's okay," she
whispers, her voice a soft
caress. "You're safe now."
Her words are a gentle
reminder that their love is
his anchor.
Plankton's body relaxes
gradually, his antennae
stilling. His eye opens,
slowly focusing on Karen's
face. His voice is weak,
his words a soft rasp. "K-Karen?"
"I'm here," she says, her voice
calm, her hand still
on his back. "You're okay."
Her eyes are filled with a love
that's stronger than steel,
her presence a comforting
weight.
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye blinking rapidly
as the world swims back into focus.
He looks up at her, his gaze
uncertain. "I... I-I'm s-sorry,"
he whispers, his voice
a reed in the wind.
Karen's eyes are filled with
pain and love. She gently
guides him to sit up, her arms
supporting him. "Don't be sorry,"
she says, her voice a balm.
"We just need to talk."
Plankton's antennae quiver,
his eye searching hers. "Talk?"
he repeats, his voice weak.
"Yes," Karen says firmly,
her arms around him. "We need
to communicate better, all of us."
Her gaze includes Chip,
who's still standing awkwardly
in the doorway, his eyes
fixed on his father.
Chip's heart pounds in his chest,
his fear giving way to
determination. He moves to
his mother's side, his hand
tentatively reaching out to
his father's arm. "Dad," he says,
his voice a gentle touch.
Plankton's body jerks at
his son's touch, but Karen's
calming presence helps him
steady. His antennae quiver,
his eye flickering between
his wife and son, the confusion
giving way to a hint of
understanding. "Chip?" he asks,
his voice a whisper.
Chip nods, his eyes filled
with unshed tears. "Yeah, Dad,"
he says, his voice cracking.
"It's me." He takes a deep
breath, his hand shaking slightly
as it rests on Plankton's arm.
"I didn't mean what I said."
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye blinking rapidly as he
tries to process the situation.
"You... you didn't?" he
stammers, his voice filled with
disbelief.
Karen nods, her eyes
never leaving his. "Chip didn't
mean it, Plankton," she says
soothingly. "He's just scared,
and he loves you."
Plankton's antennae droop,
his eye misting with tears. "But
I scared him," he murmurs, his
voice barely audible. "And you."
Karen's eyes are filled with
compassion as she shakes
her head. "It's not your fault,
baby," she says gently. "Your
autism doesn't make you a
monster."
Chip nods, his hand still
on his father's arm, his voice
steady. "Dad, I know it's
not your fault," he says,
his eyes meeting Plankton's. "I'm
sorry for not understanding."
Plankton's antennae lift slightly,
his eye focusing on Chip's face.
"You do?" he whispers, hope
flickering in his gaze.
Chip nods, his own eyes
brimming with tears. "I do," he
affirms, his voice stronger.
"I'm here for you, Dad."
Plankton's antennae twitch,
his eye searching Chip's face
for signs of sincerity.
The silence in the room is
heavy, a tangible entity filled
with unspoken words and
apologies. Then, ever so slightly,
Plankton's antennae bob, a sign
of his acceptance. "Okay," he says,
his voice still shaky. "We'll talk."
Karen's eyes fill with
relief, a soft smile playing
on her lips. She squeezes
his arm gently. "Thank you,"
she whispers, her voice filled with
gratitude. "We're in this
together."