"No! You don't understand mom, you need to pick me up he broke up with me!," said Clara. All I did was tell him I had autism, why would he discriminate so much against me? I hate myself for being different, no one loves me. (You see the car pull up) "Clara, your therapist is on the phone to talk to you about it, it's going to be okay," said her mom. I grabbed the phone, remembering how it cracked on the playground blacktop on July 4th.
