The word “Retard” is stamped in bright red on all of my personal identification. Ever since the government found out about my high-functioning autism, I have essentially become a lower class citizen despite my slightly above average income. I can only take the slowest moving vehicles, I’m always the last person to be assisted at the check-out lines, doctor’s offices, and airports; prices are more expensive to compensate for people having to put up with a retard like me, I sit alone in public gatherings in a sanctioned off area, and every time I take a class to learn something, I’m forced to watch educational videos for kids with bright colours and talking animals as if I was 3 years old with practically no attention span whatsoever. Despite what educators believe, 3 year olds are just as capable of comprehending the word “pediatrician” as easily as the word “doctor.” It seems that no matter where I go, everyone sees me as an eternal 3 year old.
I had enough. I wanted to spend time with normal people. The smart people. The ones who graduated from the highest of universities and have formed their own societies similar to Mensa. Of course, they have “bodyguards” at the doors who ask you to solve puzzles about any sort of archaic topics before you can enter. Usually, they're related to science, technology, engineering, and math. They never even bothered to give me the puzzles. They just look at my ID and say “You’re not welcome here, retard.” Whenever I ask to at least attempt a puzzle, they just say “You can’t do it.”
One day I waited for one of them to leave and I snuck in. Inside, I saw people conversing all sorts of topics and exchanging puzzles. A few of them were even discussing ideas on how to improve the city. It wouldn’t surprise me if most of them worked for the government. I tried joining in and discussed topics such as The Millennium Prize Problems and the six degrees of separation as best as I could. Eventually, they got suspicious of my limited talking points and switched the discussion to puzzles. I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket to reveal a puzzle I attempted to make. It was nothing more than a series of anagrams, rebuses, odd one outs, and math equations with the variables substituted with phrases such as “the number of horns on a unicorn” or “the number of eyes a cyclops has.” They just stared at the paper and made no attempt at solving it. It was too easy for them. Despite the genuine effort I put in, to them, it seemed like something you’d see on a kids’ menu. They called the police and I was escorted out of the building.
The police shoved me in their car and drove to some unknown building. They dragged me inside and asked “Do you know why you don’t see many retards around here?” I said no and they responded “We have a special place for people like you. Since you’re obviously too stupid to live here, you deserve to be put to some good use.”
They locked me inside a glass chamber. Scientists approached me and watched me like I was a monkey at the zoo. One of them grabbed me and said “Open wide!” in that same mocking tone that those talking animals used. They force fed me drugs and said “Yay! You’re being so good!” They then shoved me inside the chamber and turned it on. The inside of the chamber heated up as I could feel the flesh melt off my body. I screamed as my bones and organs were liquified. I was reduced to nothing more than a puddle. The last thing I remember before I died was them saying that they would use me as a new alternative form of fuel, just like the rest of those retards.