Writing piece from a writing exercise

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I'm so tired of people saying that aspies have no emotions, so that's why I want to post this to prove them wrong. This is a writitng exercise I did at home. I was supposed to use a situation and put a different tone, or emotions, in two versions. She if you can guess what tone each uses (by tone, I mean what attitude (i.e. happy, sad, fearful, etc.) I'll put the non-story text in bold so you can read easier. Here's the first version:


"Ah, sh**!" I said as Minny walked towards me. My heart beat. I grew pale. Sweat formed from my face. "Clish!" went a sound in my mind. My legs grew cold.
Step. Step. Step. Minny came closer. She put her gum in the trash. She smiled, ascended her brows, swayed her hips. Her skin radiated with the light. Must she embarass me like that?
Stop. Minny now stood in front of me. Close to me. Really close. She leaned forward, lifted her hand, lifted my face. "Well, haven't seen you in a while. Two weeks wasn't it?"
I gulped, sweat stung my eyes. I nodded. "Y-y-yes, it has been two weeks." O led my eyes away from her gaze. "Great miracles of Jesus! Where has the time passed?"
"Forget about the time, my butterfly. Let's talk."
sh**. Me and my brain. "A-alright, if you want to talk, let's talk about you first."
Something warm touch my lap. Her hand. She leaned closer to me. Her eyes--green--met mine's. "I'd rather let you talk first, mainly your sex life. Remember, men first."
The pressure in my mind grew. My eyes widened. Wider. Wider. They met hers. "I-I've been avirgin all my life."
Her cheeks puffed. Turned red too. Her eyes widened. She stepped back. Laughter. Laughter from the bar. Laughter from her.
"A virgin! A virgin, people! This man, after living twenty-eight years, still has his virginity? What a joke!"
I hung my head down. I closed my eyes. Tears dripped. My mind block the laughter. "sh**."
"Hey, don't make fun of his virginity!" a voice said.
I opened my eyes, I straightened my neck, turnd my head to the voice. A woman stood beside me.
"Just because you're not a virgin doesn't mean you can make fun of one," the woman said.
Minny squinted her eyes. She leaned forward. Her hips swayed to the right. "Whatever Sabrina. You think every virgin like you in the world are in Christ. I tell you what you are--sh**. Nothing but sh**!" And she turned and walked away.
I glared at the woman who stood beside me. my eyes met hers. "Thanks."
"No problem," the woman said. "Sometimes she can be a pest y'know. If you want to talk, then we can go outside."
I smiled. I place her palm on my. I stood. "I would like that. Your name's Sabrina, yes?"


Here's the second version:


"She's coming," I said as Minny walked towards me. I took a pepeermint from my pocket and popped it in my mouth. Flicking the comb in a gangster manner, I combed my hair. I smiled. Best of day I must say.
Her hips swayed the instant she smiled. "Pop!" went a bubble from her gum. She cocked an eyebrow and winked at me and met my eyes with hers.
Step, step, step, and stop. She stood close to me--close to me like two magnets. She leaned forward and took out her gum and put her hand on her lips. Then she blew a kiss to me. "Haven't seen you in a while."
I cocked my head and lifted hers so her eyes met mines. "Haven't seen you in a while either. Been two weeks, no?"
She put both palms on my cheeks. So warm and soft. Soft like foam. "Let's talk, my butterfly. I want to know about you first."
I moved her right hand away from my cheek. "Let's talk about you first instead, plum."
Coldness surfaced to my cheeks as Minny put her palms on her hips. "I said you first pal."
"Why'd I have to go first?"
"Because it's common ettiquette for men to go first."
I leaned on the counter of the bar. I hung my head down and crossed my legs and huffed. The next sound I heard was a "clash!" A glass cup broke.
"Listen here b***h!" I said as I gazed at her, my finger pointing at her. "Nobody these days do ettiquette anymore. If you want to talk like that, go to Europe. Otherwise do things the American way."
Minny huffed like hell. Like the big bad wolf. She clenced her fist, and I was sure I heard a pop. Not from her gum, but from her knuckles.
"Whatever," she said. "Like I need to conversate with a basterd!" And she turned around and walked out of the bar, her fingers snapping.
I gave my last huff and sat on my stool. I put my head down in the hole my arms created. Tears slipped down my cheeks. b*****s. Like I need them. Never did.



So what do you think? Do you like it? I hope this proves that autistic people have emotions. Any comments or critiques will be appreciated.

I guess that the tone in the first one is nervousness and I don't know what the second tone is. It confused me at the end with the crying. But this is great writing. However, I think that if you want to prove the people who say Aspies have no emotions wrong, may I suggest writing about yourself. How do I know the person in these writings is an Aspie? If you tell a story about you and you write using these tones then it would have more relevancy.

great job. keep writing!