San Diego

The Big Bang (how it all began)

04.03.2024

***

I don't live with my real parents.

Why not? Because they're dead. Both of them. At least, that's what people have told me. It's true, I suppose. Why would someone lie about a thing like this?

Oh, I know. I've read lots of books about children thinking their parents are dead, but actually they've just disappeared and started a new life elsewhere. However, I am sure my parents did not do such a thing. And I'm not just being naive. I knew my parents, though only until my sixth birthday. 

I'll never forget that day. It's carved into my mind, and I will never be able to get rid of it. It's been almost ten years now, but I can still remember it as if it were yesterday. 

***

"Good morning, sweetheart. We've got a surprise for you!" 

I opened my eyes to see my father, Michael, looking down at me and kissing my forehead. 

"What is it?", I asked, with a sleepy voice. 

My mother Lucy had opened the curtains and turned around. "We are... going to the beach today!"

I was at once on my feet. "Yes! The beach! The beach! Woohoo!"

My father lifted me up and carried me down the stairs. I held on to him, giggling. My mother walked in front of us and opened the door to the kitchen. 

On the table was a box. It was red and there was a black ribbon wrapped around it. My father put me down and I ran toward the table. "Wow! What's inside?" 

Mom smiled. "Look for yourself, darling." 

I carefully tore off the ribbon. Although I couldn't wait to open the box, I picked up the ribbon and started to neatly roll it up. My mom took it from my hands, though. "Let me do that, Lizzy. Go on, open your gift!"

***

We went to a doctor, doctor Lereck, once, because my parents had noticed that I was a bit different from other children. I always wanted to clean things up, to put everything in its proper place. When something wasn't in the right spot, I would get really upset. 

I have always been very sensitive to noises, lights and smells. One time we went to a light show in the park, but we had to leave after ten minutes because I couldn't handle it. We can't have Camembert in the house, or any other strong cheese, because I can't stand the smell. 

I have but little empathy. When people are sad or angry, I always need more explanation because I don't know why they're sad or angry. And when I do know what's wrong, it's not easy for me to say something simple to comfort them. Usually I don't even try. 

My parents talked to me about it. Then we went to see doctor Lereck. I had to do some tests, answer some questions and then I had to go out of the room while doctor Lereck talked to my parents. When they came out, my mom looked as if she'd always known what doctor Lereck would say. My dad looked at me and said that I have autism spectrum disorder. 

I knew what it meant. It meant that my brain functioned a little bit differently than other people's brains, and that I would always be seen as different. It's not like I am highly autistic. I have a mild form, mild enough to let me live a completely normal life, just sometimes I would have to try harder to adapt to the situation than other people. I was fine with it. I was just who I was, and I didn't care that I wasn't the same as other people. I was glad – if everyone was the same, wouldn't life be extremely boring?