Novel & Cerita Autistic Memes

TESSA I open I*******m first, and my world implodes all over again. The video is everywhere. Reposted, shared, turned into memes, reaction videos and compilation clips. #TessaFail is trending. #FatGirlDown has over a million views. Someone has auto-tuned my sobs and turned them into a remix. But it's the comments that really destroy me: "LMAOOOOO this is the funniest thing I've ever seen" "Imagine being this delusional about your weight"

Another gossiped, "Hey, I heard from my mom that Lauren's mentally challenged. That's why Madam Sophia doesn't parade her around." "Seriously? No wonder she always seemed dumb and slow in junior high. Looks like she's a retard!" a third one commented callously. "Hey, hey, that's rude," Zoe interjected. She crossed her legs and took a drag. "They call it 'autism' now." "Ha! It's the same as retarded! Hahaha!" Everyone erupted in laughter. Zoe snickered gleefully amid the mocking laughs. The lounge's door swung open. A waiter led Betty in.

I muttered. On looking at the notification, I could see 99+ notifications. “LET THE LGBTQ COMMUNITY BREATHE!” “LAURA'S KARMA HAD JUST MET HER NIGHTMARE” #JUSTICE FOR ERIC SLOAN# #SANCTION TO LORA KARMA# #THE WICKED MUST NOT GO UNPUNISHED# All the notifications read. The one that got my attention was an anonymous poster that made a meme video clip of me with ruined makeup and some captions that struck me hard. This particular caption was directed to my last post Eric had forced me to make.

I mean, Auðr and I can’t seriously be the first werewolf and vampire pairing the Goddess has ever made in the history of our species. There’s no way she would make us the first in history. Auðr might be that special, given she brought the rest of his family into the species, but I sure the hell ain’t. I mean, I’m special in the human way people use the word. I have ADHD, and I’m on the high-functioning Autism spectrum.

The way they wrap around me, sliding against my skin with a too-muffled friction to be natural. Words no longer fall fluidly. Laughter is contained, almost mechanical. And some faces, some glances, turn towards me. Stealthily. Quickly. Then they turn away with that poorly played haste that fools no one, least of all me. I tilt my head slightly, as if to better hear what is not being said to me. As if to tune into that secret frequency, just below the real. — Tell me I’m becoming paranoid, I whisper to Lucas. He raises his eyebrows, amused.

I remember he was called by slang terms on the internet like ‘obsessive seme’ or ‘crazy obsessive seme,’ something like that. The younger brother who had looked so cute and adorable when he was first born now looked horrifying. And this isn’t just any younger brother, but that… obsessive? Crazy seme? thing. ‘Well, objectively speaking, he is incredibly pretty.’ No, that’s not right. Don’t be fooled by his face! That’s not an angel but a devil’s child! Then suddenly, I remembered an internet meme I’d seen long ago. [Baby Hitler is right before your eyes! What would you do with that baby?]

This is what love does to someone like me it destroys me from the inside out. Timothy's black sports car sits in the circular driveway, and I wonder if Madison is inside with him right now. Probably planning their future together while laughing about the pathetic Omega who thought she had a chance. My phone buzzes with another notification. Someone has created a meme using a screenshot from the video my face photoshopped onto a picture of a homeless dog peering through a restaurant window. The caption reads: "When you're an Omega but think you deserve Alpha attention." The comments are even worse:

The small pan hissed softly as the oil heated, the sharp scent of roughly crushed garlic already filling the kitchen before I realized I was humming. Fuck. A Shakira song. Wildly off-brand for this morning’s mood, which had gone to hell at five twelve a.m. sharp, when Arsen, the technological bastard I’ve called my enemy since we were both fermenting in Mama’s womb, spammed my W******p with fifteen random memes and one AI-generated video of Harry Potter lip-syncing a reggaeton song.

~ Hailey ~ The storm begins before the sky even realizes it’s supposed to rain. By the time Ethan and I step out of the boardroom hand-in-hand, with our relationship declared, half the company already has it posted, reposted, filtered, captioned, and turned into memes. Kevin meets us outside the elevator looking like a man who has aged ten years in ten minutes. “Hailey… Ethan… the internet is— I don’t know how to say this but— the memes are disrespectful. Hilarious, but disrespectful.”

My vapidness would love to smack some sense in him. ‘Cheers!’ Another wrote with clinking glasses. His teeth would look better on the ground or better as toppings. ‘Can I have some?’ The following goes on. I'd like to have some of your arteries too. ‘Cheap drunks!’ You think you can afford the cheap in the wildest of your dreams. The netizens had a gala day sharing memes amongst themselves. I have become a laughingstock. It ranges from hilarious to disgustingly vulgar. For what? For outspeaking and spitting facts at a jerk's face. For standing up by the side of a vampiress who is forced to become his sex slave. For having opinions that do not reconcile. For wanting to be admired.