NO LESS TO BE DIFFERENT vi
(Autistic author)
They stepped back, giving
Plankton the space he needed.
The room was a sanctuary of
quiet, the candle's glow a
reminder of the peace they
sought. Hanna's eyes searched
the floor, the gravity of
her words heavy on her mind.
Later, Plankton woke to the
soft rustle of pages, the scent of
books filling the room. His
eyelid fluttered open to find
Karen and Hanna sitting side by
side, their heads bent over
some magazine.
Karen looked up with a gentle smile.
"Hi, Plankton," she said, her
voice a warm embrace. "Feeling
better?"
He sat up slowly, the weight
of the blanket a comforting
reminder of the safety he'd
found in sleep. His antennae
twitched, taking in the scene
before him: Hanna,
her expression a
mixture of sadness and hope.
He studied her for a moment,
his mind racing with the echoes
of their argument.
Karen's eyes searched his,
looking for signs of distress.
But what she found was a
determined calm, a hint of
understanding. "You're okay,"
she murmured, her hand reaching
out to touch his arm.
Plankton nodded slowly, his
eye taking in the sight of
Hanna, her expression tentative.
"Hanna," he murmured, his voice a
soft echo of their earlier
exchange. "Karen."
Hanna's gaze shot up,
brimming with unshed
tears. "Plankton," she whispered,
her voice a plea for
forgiveness. "I'm sorry."
He studied her, his mind
a whirlwind of emotions. The
storm of their confrontation
was still fresh in his memory,
yet both Karen and Hanna looked
more gentle.
"Hanna," he began, his voice a
soft ripple in the quiet. "I'm
not monster." The words
echoed in the room, a
testament to the pain he'd felt.
"I know,"
she whispered, her voice a
plea for understanding. "I'm
sorry."
With methodical precision,
Plankton began to organize
the magazines scattered
on the coffee table. Each
publication was met with
his focused eye, categorized
by topic and size, then arranged
in neat rows. The rustling
of pages was a soothing
symphony to his overstimulated
senses. His antennae, once a
whirlwind of agitation, grew still.
The doorbell rang, a sharp
intrusion into the quiet. Plankton's
eye widened, his body stiffening.
A moment of panic gripped him,
his heart racing. Karen's gentle
voice called out, "I'll get it."
The door creaked
open, and in walked a beacon of
joy: SpongeBob SquarePants, his
eyes wide and welcoming.
"SpongeBob!" Plankton's voice
was a squeal of delight.
He shot up from the couch, his
movements jerky with excitement.
Sponge Bob's eyes lit up, his
face a beacon of friendship
and warmth. "Plankton!" he exclaimed,
his voice a bubble of cheer.
Plankton's antennae quivered
with joy, the storm of his
emotions giving way to a
torrent of happiness. His eye
locked on Sponge Bob.
With a bound, he rushed to
his friend, his body a whirl of
energy. "Sponge Bob!" he called,
his voice a blend of excitement
and relief. The sight of the
cheerful sponge was a balm
to his raw nerves.
Sponge Bob took a step back,
his eyes wide with surprise at
the sudden onslaught. "Plankton!"
he exclaimed, his voice a
cheerful burst of bubbles. "What's
got you all riled up?"
But Plankton was beyond
words, his body a whirlwind of
affection. He threw his arms
around Sponge Bob in a fierce
hug, his antennae wrapping
around his friend in a gesture
that was both protective and
desperate. The force of his
embrace was overwhelming, a
testament to the love he felt
for the sponge that had always
been there for him.
Sponge Bob's eyes grew
wider, his body stiff with
surprise. "Plankton?" he asked,
his voice muffled against the
tiny creature's chest. "What’s up
little buddy?"
But Plankton was waving his
arms, his hands flap-flipping in a
rhythmic dance of joy from
his love for Sponge Bob. His body
was a symphony of stimming, a
beautiful chaos that only he
understood.
Sponge Bob's eyes grew
wider, his body relaxing into
the embrace. "Hey, pal," he
chuckled, his voice a warm
embrace. "It's okay." He
patted Plankton's back, the
contact grounding him.
Plankton's antennae quivered
against Sponge Bob's porous
skin, his heart racing with
joy. The sponge's carefree
laughter was a soothing
wave that washed over him.
He pulled back slightly, his
single eye sparkling. "Sponge
Bob," he murmured, his voice a
gentle whisper of adoration.
The sight of his friend's
happiness brought a smile
to Sponge Bob's face. "Plankton,"
he said, his voice filled with
concern. "What happened?
You seem... different."
Plankton took a step
back, his antennae drooping.
SpongeBob's eyes searched
his, confusion in his gaze.
"Plankton, are you okay?" he
asked, his voice a gentle
worry. Plankton's eye
drifted to the floor, his
body suddenly still. The
whirlwind of emotions from
before had given way to a
quiet sadness.
Hanna's voice echoed in
his mind, the harshness of
her accusation a stark
contrast to Sponge Bob's gentle
tone. He felt the word
'monster' resonate within him, a
reminder of the pain she had
caused. With a deep breath,
he looked up, his antennae
twitching, his
throat tight with emotion. "A
monster," he murmured, the words
a painful echo.
Sponge Bob's eyes grew
bigger, his smile fading. "What?
You're not a monster, Plankton,"
he said, his voice a soothing
wave. "You're just... you."
Plankton's antennae
twitched, his body tightening
with the memory of Hanna's
words. "Monster," he echoed,
his voice a sad mimicry. "A
monster."
Sponge Bob's eyes grew
bigger, his smile fading
completely. "No, Plankton,"
he said firmly, his voice a
wave of reassurance. "You're
not a monster."
But Plankton's gaze was
faraway, his thoughts a
whirlwind of Hanna's accusations.
He echoed Sponge Bob's words
back, his voice a sad
mirror. "Not a monster?"
Sponge Bob's confusion
deepened, his eyes searching
Plankton's. "What's going on,
buddy?" he asked, his voice
a gentle inquiry. "Why would
anyone say that?"
Plankton's antennae
twitched, his thoughts racing.
He looked up at his friend,
his expression a mask of
uncertainty. "Hanna," he
whispered, the name a
poison on his lips. "Hanna said."
Sponge Bob's gaze
sharpened, his eyes searching
Plankton's. "What did she
say?" he asked, his voice
laced with concern.
Plankton's antennae
drooped, the weight of his
emotions a heavy burden.
"She said I was
difficult," he murmured, his
voice a soft echo of pain.
"That Plankton
ungrateful."
Sponge Bob's eyes grew
even wider, his smile
completely gone. "What? No,
Plankton," he protested, his
voice a warm embrace. "You're
not difficult. You're just...
you know, you’re Plankton."
His words hung in the air,
his confusion palpable. Plankton
stared at him, his antennae
still. "But Hanna said..."
he began, his voice trailing
off.
Karen and Hanna, who had
been quietly observing from
the sidelines, stepped forward
in unison. Karen's eyes were
filled with concern, her hand
reaching out to Plankton's.
"It's okay," she murmured. "We
need to talk about what
happened."
Hanna's face was etched with
remorse, her hand hovering
uncertainly in the air. "I'm
sorry, Plankton," she whispered.
"I didn't mean to say those
things."
Karen stepped forward, her
expression a blend of love and
firmness. "It's okay," she said,
her voice a gentle command.
"But we need to explain."
Plankton nodded, his antennae
still quivering with emotion. He
took a deep breath and began
his story, his words a soft echo
of what had occurred.
"Plankton’s invention, it didn't
work as planned. There was a
loud noise, and then..." His
voice trailed off, his gaze
focusing on a point in the
distance.
Sponge Bob and Hanna exchanged
glances, their eyes filled with
concern. "What happened,
Plankton?" Sponge Bob asked
softly, his hand resting on his
friend's arm.
Plankton took a deep breath, his
eye focusing on a point in the
distance as he began to speak.
"And then, the hospital." He spoke
as if recounting a tale of
another creature, his emotions
a buffered memory.
"The doctors said something
about... ASD?" His voice was a
whisper.
Karen's eyes searched his, a
wave of pain and love crashing
together. "Yes," she said softly.
"The accident... it changed
things for you. You have
autism, Plankton. It's a part of
who you are now."
Sponge Bob's face fell, his
expression one of shock.
"Autism?" he repeated, the
word strange on his lips.
"But what does that mean?"
Karen's hand was a gentle
weight on Plankton's shoulder,
her voice a steady stream of
information. "It means
his brain works differently now,
Sponge Bob," she began. "There
was some damage from the
accident, and it's affected
his ability to communicate
and process certain things."
Sponge Bob's eyes searched
hers, his confusion a silent
plea for understanding. "But
he's still Plankton," he said, his
voice a hopeful note.
Karen nodded, her grip
on Plankton's shoulder
unwavering. "Yes," she said.
"He's still Plankton. But with
autism, certain things are
different for him now and
for the rest of his life. He
has a condition that makes
some things hard to deal
with."
Hanna's eyes searched
Plankton's, her heart
heavy with regret. "I didn't
know," she murmured. "I'm
so sorry."
Sponge Bob looked at
Hanna, his gaze
questioning. "What do you mean,
you didn't know?"
Her eyes filled with
unshed tears, Hanna
swallowed hard. "I didn't know
about his ASD," she
explained, her voice trembling. "I
just thought he was acting
strange."
Sponge Bob's gaze
softened as he looked from
Hanna to Plankton. "It's okay,
everyone," he said gently. "We
can learn together. Right,
Plankton?"
Plankton's antennae twitched,
his single eye searching
Sponge Bob's face. The sponge's
warmth was a balm to his
raw emotions. "Yes," he murmured.
"Together."