What Really Happened: A Memoir from the Apocalypse

Prologue

Gatlinburg, Tennessee, 2013:

I grabbed onto the edge of the pool. The sun burned my face. My tears blended into the water.

The remote that controlled my being was a foreign force. It was the obstacle that kept me from being who I wanted to be, but was the reason I've always been the way that I was. Why I only ate chicken tenders and fries, why I was obsessed with Victorious, why I was afraid of planes, why I had an attitude most of the time, why whenever I was rude, I didn't realise it. It created me. It was the skeleton of my existence, but I cringed whenever I heard its name.

Ever since hearing the news, the uncertainty of whether I would be viewed differently bugged my head. My parents barely brought it up, but they probably thought about it as much as I did. They took note; they knew of this defining moment in their daughter's life. The fact that they had to reassure me they still loved me, that I was still who I was, had to have stemmed from at least a hint of uncertainty.

I was taken to the testing classroom with the puzzles and shapes so they could figure out whether I had ADD. When the woman flipped the spot the difference picture over, and on the back it read "autism", I was in denial. I wanted to ask them, so they could reassure me that it wasn't true, but I knew doing so would've choked me up. I hated the word the second I saw it. I connected it to why my hair was always frizzy, why I always wore t-shirts instead of dresses, why I squinted often, and why I had an ugly side-profile. It wasn't only why I had to hide, but it became the reason why I had to leave everything I knew.

My parents researched a middle school with a special education classroom, and they were going to take me out of my K-8 school, and place me there. I had to leave my friends, leave what I've gotten used to my entire life. I had to start completely new, where I knew no one. Dad told me sorry, and that it wasn't decided. But I knew that it was.

My parents' attention was drawn to Phoebe as they played in the water with her. They occasionally gave me a stare, confused as to why I was crying. The water swayed against my back, almost entering my ears. I stood firm, and scraped my fingers against the edge of the pool, and didn't let it drag me under.