"Unmasked"

I cowered in the corner of the dimly lit room, my ears ringing from the cacophony of sounds that seemed to reverberate through every cell in my body. The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as I trembled beneath my worn-out blanket. My hypersensitive skin crawled under the weight of my clothes, and I longed to shed them all, but something held me back. It was a habit I'd developed over the years – to hide, to conceal, to protect myself from a world that seemed too much to bear. As a child born with severe autism spectrum disorder, I struggled to navigate the complexities of human interaction. My blindness, a result of some unknown injury at birth, made it difficult for me to connect with others. My mind, stuck in a perpetual state of infancy, yearned for comfort and security. I was a newborn trapped in a grown man's body, unable to articulate my needs or express my emotions. But there was one person who understood me, who saw beyond my façade – Hange, my beloved boyfriend and section commander of the Survey Corps. He was my rock, my shelter, my safe haven. I adored him, and I knew that I would do anything to make him happy. The problem was, I had severe separation anxiety, a byproduct of being abandoned by my father when I was just a baby. The memories of that painful event still lingered, making me terrified of being alone. My face, a map of the abuse I'd suffered at the hands of my father, was disfigured and hidden beneath a mask. I only revealed it to Hange, trusting him with my deepest secrets. But the Survey Corp members didn't share that trust. They bullied me, teasing me about my mask, my disability, and my orientation. I was gay, and I only loved boys – Hange, specifically. As I sat in the corner, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The Survey Corp members, a rough bunch of men, surrounded me, their laughter and jeers piercing my eardrums. I whimpered, sensing trouble, and Hange's warning voice echoed in the distance. But it was too late. One of the men grasped my mask, yanking it off my face. I shrieked, covering my mouth as my tears flowed uncontrollably. My disfigured face was exposed, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of insecurity. "Look at him! He's ugly!" one of them sneered. Their words cut deep, and I cowered, overwhelmed by the cruelty. But then, a fierce voice intervened. "How dare you!" Hange's angry tone sent shivers down my spine. He grabbed the bullies by the throat, his eyes blazing with fury. "Do you have any idea what he's gone through? The pain, the suffering, the trauma? You're just a bunch of heartless monsters!" I whimpered, still crying, as Hange shielded me with his body. His warm hands cradled my face, and I buried myself in his chest, seeking comfort. "I'm sorry, my little boy," he whispered, his voice a gentle breeze on a summer day. "I'll never let them hurt you again. You're mine, and I'll protect you with my life." As I clung to him, I felt a sense of security, of safety, that I'd never known before. But the incident had left me shaken, and I couldn't help but wonder – would I ever be able to face the world without fear? Only time would tell.