School
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Our six-year-old Erik was very tall as a child. He looks more like a seven or eight-year-old boy... but his Ma is very small, only 1.64 meters.
I can remember that I was very excited about school. I was so damn fucking ready to learn. But well... In the end, I hated school. I hated the others. I hated the teachers. I hated everything about it. Sit still. Don't talk. Don't ask twice. Don't look out the window. Don't stand up for no reason. Read faster. Spell it better. Don't be so fucking stupid. Back then, as an undiagnosed child, it wasn't easy for me. For nobody. My mother told me once, that I was, at the age of seven, so damn close to my autism diagnosis. But then, she said I didn't want to go anymore to this therapist so bad, that this is my very own fault, that I am now late diagnosed. It is? I was seven. A child. I don't know.
