/N: Okay, I think I'm going to write a story here about autism. There is one very important person in my life who has been diagnosed with the disorder/somewhat abnormality and I'll be thinking about him when I'm writing this. The title (so far it's Not a Jigsaw, But a Friend) comes from the common pro-cure representation of autism as a jigsaw puzzle. Thanks:
CHAPTER 1: OUR STORY
"What a bunch of a**holes," I had uttered, my friend keeping his balance on my sister's high heels.
My friend took his notepad out and wrote, "Yeah, seriously. And to think that the Canadian government is actually endorsing this madness," and tripped while trying to balance.
"Maybe both of us should sign this petition," I told him. It was pretty disgusting. I clicked, "Sign" on my computer and entered my name and comments.
My friend then signed. He then wrote, "Good. Hopefully they'll set that man free,"
My friends, the "man" I am referring to is Hasit Khagram. He was diagnosed with high-functioning autism. He used to be happy, even travelling around the world with his mother. Though then, when he was 30, the Canadian government forcibly placed him out of his home and into a psychiatric hospital, where they have kept him for five years as a human guinea pig, with constant drugs being infused inside him. He has also been kept in a jail cell like an animal. It saddens me to say that death row inmates are treated more humanely than this man is.
My friend, as you know, is diagnosed with high-functioning autism as well, or Asperger syndrome. His name is Jason Bedwell. He writes in his notepad constantly because he is mute: he can understand oral language but cannot speak himself. And like many mutes, he has mastered handwriting, and vocabulary, merely by using a piece of paper.
He has written his story down in the first page of his notebooks since he was nine years old. All of them say something along the lines of this:
My mother says, at first when I was a baby, I seemed happy, developing just like other babies. Being like other babies. But, then, I did not speak, which for some bizarre reason I do not have the ability to do, and yet, at just 18 months, I had taken my mother's work notes and written my ABC's on them. My mother was shocked at the fact that I was writing well before a normal baby is supposed to, yet never spoke. So she talked it over with my father, and we went to the University of Iowa. The doctor there had done a few exams and I was diagnosed with a moderate form of Asperger's syndrome. The doctor told my parents that I would never have friends and a lowlife not a very nice person for the rest of my life. However, I learned to take my writing ability to new levels. I was able to make friends, which the doctor said I was never going to do. And now, I'm happy as a clam. I may have not been if my parents took me into a psychiatric hospital and watched as the surgeons deface me, sterilize me, and modify my internal organs. The very thought makes me sick to my stomach. So, if you read this, I wish for no cure to Autism! Autism forever!
And, I, am Alex Lowe. I met him in my first grade class, when we made a visit to the special ed room. He was interesting, just that he could get by entirely using writing. I had told my mother at first, and then she put it off, saying that he isn't worthwhile. Though I came back to the room, again, and again, becoming ever closer, until I finally decided to sneak over to his house. Once my mother caught me, she had almost spanked me for sneaking out, but my drive towards this friend was so strong that I had stood up for my friends. Since I was almost getting aggressive, my mom backed off, and we've been friends ever since.
Hicktown. This is what our town is, Adamstown, South Dakota. Full of retards who think that autistics should get killed, be sent away to psychiatric hospitals, and some so gruesome I can't even mention it here. I'm the only one here except for maybe some relatives and friends of autistics that actually doesn't feel so negative towards them. But we wanted that to change. I could tell as soon as we signed that petition that we were on an adventure.
