Life-in-the-box: Part two

I woke up refreshed, and hoping it wasn't a dream. Nope, I was still autistic, I could tell by the ads for processed turkey that were playing in my head. Mr Turkey, Mr. Turkey is two times good for you.

I thought I'd go out for a walk, so I popped the flap up and jumped out. I realized right away something terrible had happened. Someone had defaced my box!

Just when I thought my troubles were over, were they only beginning? What was this insipid puzzle piece doing here? Why was someone saying these terrible things about my people, that we were sick and depressing and shouldn't exist? That we needed somebody else, somebody normal and whole to speak for us?

I spent the next several days scraping off the graffiti, all the while looking over my shoulder for the perpetrators. If I saw them I never knew. I heard a lot of people using nice words like "awareness". They talked about research. That's scientific, right? That had to be a good sign...