A Day in the LifeA Story by Ashira MacyA girl goes through a typical morning with her high-functioning autistic brother.7:31 Blink once… Blink twice. 7:31 7:31? Are you kidding me? I went to bed at
twelve! I probably fell asleep around twelve thirty. Why the hell am I up so
early? I roll over and close my eyes. Tanya. Hmm… who? “Tanya,” there are a few sharp knocks on
the door to accompany the muffled baritone recitation of my name. I grunt my reply to let the voice know I
can hear it, unsure if the sound actually formed a word or not. “Do you want to get up now so I can train
you more to beat Brian?” Oh, now the voice has a name. Jordan. That
makes sense, he always gets up early. Well, early in my book anyway. I glance over at my digital alarm clock,
glowing red numbers glaring at me in defiance. 8:40 Yuck! Weekends were made for people to
sleep in. Nevertheless… “I’ll be up in twenty,” I breathe out
through a yawn, shutting my eyes once again. It’s unfortunately already plenty
bright outside and because of the damn skylight my room is already flooded with
hair-bleaching, skin-burning solar rays; so instead of black, the insides of my
eyelids are fire-engine red. “Ok,” is his only reply. Well, that and
the sound of Mario shooting off a fireball. “Jordan?” another voice, oh joy. This time
it belongs to a woman, “Jordan, you should turn that down so your sister can
sleep.” “No, she is getting up soon to play with
me,” comes his parry. I can just picture it: my stepmother looking straight at
Jordan, competing against a video game for his attention as he blows her off
with his answer without so much as a sideways glance her way. I’m not sure if she says anything in
rebuttal, but when I hear the door shut softly I begin to untangle myself from
my fuzzy red blanket. I quickly change into a comfortable shirt and pair of
pants, giving myself a once over in the mirror. Once I am convinced I don’t
look like death warmed over, frozen, and then reheated again I open up the
door. I am greeted by the excited sounds
of “Super Smash Brothers: Brawl” and look over at my brother, dressed in the
dirty clothes he had been wearing since yesterday morning. His light brown hair
was uncombed and his sky blue eyes were trained on the tiny, six inch screen he
had the Wii hooked up to. He heard me come in, but his eyes never lost focus. I walk over to the ugly blue and white
couch that seems to swallow up any item that has the misfortune of being set on
it and plop down next to him, directing my eyes at the television screen, my
mind somewhere else as he finished up his match. His smell caught my attention.
Lord knows I love the kid, but I really don’t love the way he smells. It is
strange because I think he developed the combination of dirt plus B.O. plus
I-don’t-know-what-else odor a couple of years ago when he refused to bathe for
two weeks. Ick! Nobody wanted to be in the same room with him during that
phase. Ever since then the smell seems to be permanent, regardless of how much
better he is with hygiene nowadays. It tends to sink into his clothes, pillows
and blankets too, the poor kid. Oh well, he’s my brother, and he is what he is. I snap out of my daydream and go to poke
him in the side, “C’mon, dude, I have to train! I don’t want Brian to beat me.” He looks away from the screen for the
first time this morning and grins at me, handing over the old, purple GameCube controller
he knows I prefer. “Alright, last time I beat you like, a
bazillion times with Sonic, so if you want to beat him then you’ll have to
defeat me.” “Yeah, yeah, I know,” I reply. He doesn’t
have to remind me. That damned ridiculous blue hedgehog is too fast for my
preferred character. It’d help if we knew who Brian played as the most so we
didn’t have to go through every single character. “Sonic!” I hear the ecstatic announcer’s
voice yell. Jordan chose the bane of my existence yet again. “Zelda!” the announcer exclaims as I
select my weapon of choice. One match… Four matches… Fifteen matches lost against that stupid
blue mammal! Jordan is laughing at me, “Come on,
Tawnie, it’s not that hard!” Yes, it is. Wait… Punch, dodge, punch, dodge. “S**t!” Jordan’s voice. Knock that stupid blue animal in his
stupid red running shoes off the platform. “F**k!” Jordan’s voice sounds again. “The winner is - Zelda!” Finally. Jordan looks annoyed though.
Isn’t the point of this whole training session so that I can win without him
going easy on me? “Ok, well, you only beat me once.” “I know bro, but let’s move on.” He looks reluctant, but this isn’t so that
he can throttle me a thousand times and get a fat head. It’s so I can beat my
crush at a game he probably plays a hell of a lot more than I do. Ness - beaten! Pokémon Trainer - beaten! Donkey Kong - beaten! Mario - beaten! “Falco!” the announcer shouts. I don’t
really know this character. The Star Fox theme song comes on. Damn,
this is a fast one too. He unlocks his special move. Falco’s voice rings out as
a giant tanks falls out of the sky to pummel Zelda, “I like you better dead!” “I like you better dead,” Jordan parrots
as his character obliterates mine. Zelda - beaten! Jeez, my thumbs are sore, but I want to
beat this guy. Another match. “I like you better dead,” Jordan’s voice,
“I like you better dead!” Oh boy, he’s stuck in a loop again. “I like you better dead! I like you better
dead! I like you better dead! I like you bet-” “Dude, STOP!” I explode. I’ve been told
that I am the only person who can yell at Jordan without him completely
flipping his lid. He gets scared when I yell, or so my mom claims. “Sorry Tanya, I guess I am getting a
little anxious.” I just wish he could sense my aggravation
before I boil over. I really hate shouting at him. “It’s cool,” I reply. “Kids.” Hm, a voice we haven’t heard yet
today. “Yeah, dad?” “Time to stop playing, we have to make
breakfast,” my father pokes his head through the doorway. “Ok,” I reply. As soon as my dad walks out Jordan begins
to set up another match. “Bro, we have to go make breakfast.” He hesitates before shutting off the game.
Hopefully we’ll be able to get through the whole day without him throwing a
tantrum. So far so good.
© 2014 Ashira MacyAuthor's Note
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Added on July 21, 2014Last Updated on August 7, 2014 Tags: autism, family, love, video games, special needs, hardship AuthorAshira MacyMartinez, CAAboutI am 24 years old and just getting back into writing after not using the skill for a few years, so I am a bit rusty. I am excited to share my new work as well as some old with this community and would.. more..Writing
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