A Collection of Story Stories

My [Autistic] Brother

Title: My [Autistic] Brother

Genre: Teen Fiction

   My brother, Matthew, was born autistic. He was born prematurely, weighing only five pounds and two ounces. We didn't think he was going to make it. He stayed in the ICU for over a month. It was a miracle he survived that first month. We already knew it was going to be tough.

   But we held on, and we never gave up hope.

   At first, I wasn't sure what to make of my new brother. We were almost seven years apart. Before then, I was an only child, but this new person in the family definitely changed our way of life. Instead of having peaceful nights of sleep, either my mother or father would be awake, trying to calm a crying baby.

   I didn't understand what autism was, even. Autism is a neurodevelopment disorder that is highly variable, which makes it very difficult to treat. My brother lacked many social aspects, such as making eye contact when talking, and did not have the ability to use simple movements to express himself. He overreacted to a lot of circumstances and threw temper tantrums, not knowing how to control his emotions. He didn't respond to him name often, it was as if he was in his own little imaginary world in his head.

   When he reached the age of four, he started going to speech and occupational therapy classes. I still am not sure what exactly they do there, but Matt never seemed to like it. He would always come out with his hands over his ears, a distressed look on his face. However, our parents spent tons of money trying to help him, no matter how much he hated it. He was improving, slowly but surely. He could finally form words with his mouth, but they sounded a bit awkward, coming from his mouth. At least it was something.

   People at school didn't accept it. They would stare at him strangely, or glare, wondering why he kept twitching, or speaking so weirdly.

   "Oh, you're the girl with the weird brother," some would say to me. I wouldn't know how to reply.

   He also had habits. Really annoying habits. He would flap his hands constantly, and he couldn't sit still; he was a little ball of energy.  He didn't like change; he wanted everything the way it was, and he liked normality.

   He loved to touch people's hair. I don't know why, but he must've liked the feel of it. I would be sitting on the couch, watching television, and he'd walk in, sit next to me, then yank on my hair. His grip was very weak, but it hurt nonetheless. If you swatted his hand away, he would start bawling. Then my mother would scold me, saying that he was 'delicate'. And that was one of his less annoying habits. He'd call me names, hit me, and destroy my things on purpose. Once he knew that he could get away with pretty much anything, he took advantage of that knowledge.

   That was when I became more and more furious with my brother. He would bother me senseless, then if I told him to stop, he scream for my mother.

   I remember one particular fight, when I was thirteen and he was six. He was hiding behind my mother's leg, smirking at my misfortune.

   "Listen, your brother cannot help what he does!" my mother yelled.

   "Yes, he can! If you'd just tell him, for once, to just let me be, he wouldn't cry! Look at him right now! He's smiling, mum! He knows he got me in trouble, and he thinks it's funny! Well, it isn't!" I shouted right back.

   "He doesn't understand," my mom defended him. He was her precious angel.

   "He understands perfectly, mom. He's not as messed up as you think he is," I scoffed. Her mouth dropped.

   "How dare you say that about your brother! He is not messed up, he just operates differently than the rest of us," my mom was furious.

   "I never said he was! What the heck is he, mom? A machine? Look-" Mom cut me off.