autism . frerard

Ch. 1

First off: fucking picture wouldn't crop correctly and the title cover looks half stupid.

Second: new story! :)

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Some people say that when it rains you're supposed to be happy. Maybe because there's usually a rainbow after that people crowd around and take pictures of. But rain is usually sad. Gloomy. But I like it when it rains, I'm not upset, yet I'm not happy. I love looking at the raindrops on a window or watching them smoothly slide down a surface with ease. Sometimes I think rain comes out just to make you appreciate and have those sad days that you need every once in a while. If you lived every day as if you're the happiest person ever then that means you're faking it. Everybody has sad days, where they don't do anything, where they ignore their friends, pretend to laugh and just move on. My life was like that every day. I didn't care. I noticed, but never cared.

Like when I sat by myself at lunch, I noticed, but simply didn't care. I think people didn't want to sit with me. Where they uncomfortable around me too? I always am. I'm too awkward to have any friends... atleast that's what my dad says. My mom simply said it was because I was "different", more unique than the others -I appreciated the small and simple things more than other people did.

That's the way it is with someone new. People take one look and put judgement. I usually don't label anything.

Like when that kid Gerard walked on a few weeks ago. I've been studying him a lot actually, more than I would other people. That's what I'm doing right now.

His bright red hair and small wrinkles under his eyes when he laughed. His some-what small teeth and round cheeks. His deep hazel eyes and pointy hips. I think I bumped in to him once and his sharp hips probably gave me a bruise. But the way he cocked a smile like it was nothing and his thick fingers that he chewed on too much. But when he's using a pencil you never notice the peeling skin on his fingers. The way his foot lightly bounces when he's listening to music in class, his long legs in skinny jeans. I felt slightly intimidated by him (if not everyone) but he didn't seem badass or rude. The more you hear him and see him he's sweet and nice.

Some days he would try to make small conversation with me. Which was really hard. But what hurt was when he would finish talking to me and most kids would lean over whispering to him, things like: "you won't get far with that one", "don't even try", "sorry, he's mute". I would just coward my head the other direction and pretend nothing existed. Moving along, living those sad days. Every day.

Sometimes he would catch me staring and I'd have to pretend I wasn't looking. Sometimes he'd sit by me, waiting for a ride after school, or just to sit by me. But never at lunch. He had friends. I don't understand how it's so easy for him to make friends.

But he keeps seeing me staring and he keeps looking over at me. Sometimes I wish I were just blind. And I didn't stalk him to know his name, he actually introduced himself to me.

Wait...

Fuck, he's walking over here. Frank, you dumbass, you can't even start a conversation. He smoothly sat down at the seat next to me.

"I've seen you at school... you have autism, right?"

Ha. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. Maybe I'm the kid with autism or maybe I'm that kid that got sent to rehab, did drugs, or had sex at the age of 13.

But I'm only one of those.

"Frank, right?"

I did a stiff nod, slowly looked over at him and said, "the kid with autism." I'm pretty suprised he heard me, I was really quiet.