Silent Voice

Chapter 13 - Babysitting

Claire's head feels like it's spinning. Her essay... disappointing? But... she poured so much time and thought into it... wrote from the soul... got praising comments from both dads... even made Pop cry because it was that powerful...

Claire takes a shaky deep breath. She feels like she's been punched, like she might cry herself. But she's a writer. Writers are professional. They can take critique.

She still doesn't understand why she feels this way whenever an adult disapproves of her, why she wants to run and hide and scream and hit her face until she can't feel pain anymore, but when this happens her dads will pull her close and whisper loving words to her and remind her that she is safe.

It's okay, Claire. It's okay. He just thinks the draft needs work, that's all. He's not going to hurt you. He won't scream or pin you down or lock you in the dark. It just means some editing. You're good at editing. You edit your work all the time.

And Claire does edit her work, and she does take critique from her dads, who will point out typos and awkwardly-worded sentences and little things she can improve (and little things they like too). But that feels different, somehow, from how Angel is frowning down at her now.

"You realize that you're writing for PARENTS, right?" he's saying. "And yet you issue this... horrible condemnation of them."

But... she was just talking about her experiences with abuse and guilt. She wasn't trying to criticize good parents, like her dads or Ahmed and Ava's moms. She was writing about how her mom's words hurt her, how she wasn't broken until her parents convinced her that she was born broken, how she is still trying to put together the pieces of herself.

"Autism Rescue wants parents and children with autism to work together." Angel's hands are on his hips. He's towering above her and Claire can't bear to look at his face, or anywhere near him. "Condemning your mother is NOT the way to do this. How do you think she would feel, reading this?

How would her mom feel? How would she...

I hate her I hate her she's worthless

can't we just get rid of her send her away I can't bear dealing with her why why was she born?

screaming brat ruining my life I had dreams I had hopes I had

she doesn't deserve any of this doesn't deserve it doesn't deserve

get rid of her we have to get rid of her we will

John sees the terror in Claire's eyes. He stands behind her, moves his hand into her field of view, and grips her shoulder, trying to be firm and reassuring and grounding simply by the placement of his fingers.

He tries to give Claire chances to assert herself, to be independent. But clearly she's over her head right now. She's frozen, turned back into that scared little girl. Time for her dad to have her back.

"Angel," John says, tone strong and firm and measured, "you asked Claire for a personal story about her first family. And she gave you that." And it was one of the finest darn essays that John has ever read. (But he doesn't say that.)

John takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I also believe parents and autistic people should work together. But when a parent is abusive, we shouldn't excuse or enable them."

Claire has turned towards him more, her gaze fixed on his shirt. Good. His presence reminds her that she's safe.

"Claire's pop and I worked hard to teach her that her mom was a bad person whose actions were completely wrong." Is it black-and-white? Sure. But trying to kill a child is unquestionably evil, and John would rather Claire err on the side of oversimplification, than on the side of believing her mom might have been justified. "We're proud of her for realizing it was her mom's fault, not hers. If that isn't what you're looking for, then specify what you do want. And we'll see if Claire is the right person to write that essay."