After I made another group of kids at the residential treatment center break down in tears, the director dragged me into his office. He planted me right in front of a wealthy-looking young couple. "If you're looking for a companion for your autistic son, this girl is your best bet," the director said, sighing. "She’s the biggest chatterbox in the entire system. Actually no... let's call it ‘vibrant.’ She is very vibrant." He leaned in, his voice drops to a serious whisper. "But here’s my one condition. If you adopt her, you absolutely cannot send her back. Consider this my only request." The young couple didn't seem to hear the director’s warning. They looked at me, their eyes sparkling with excitement. "We want her!" they said simultaneously. I didn't really understand what autism was. But my new mom told me later, "Autism just means you can talk to him as much as you want, and he’ll never tell you to shut up." My eyes lit up. A match made in heaven. I was a born talker, and he was the ultimate designated listener. 1 My new mom and dad led me to a bedroom door that was tightly shut. They looked at me with expectation written all over their faces. "Go on in, sweetheart. Your brother doesn't talk much, but he’s actually very sweet once you get to know him." Mom added, "If you can just get him to say a single word back to you, Dad and I will give you anything you want." My eyes gleamed. I reached out and pushed the door open. Before I could even introduce myself— SLAM! The door flew shut, narrowly missing my nose. I stared at the wood, thoroughly confused. Mom and Dad sighed behind me. "It’s alright, Nan Yu. That’s just how he is," Dad said gently. "Why don't you try again tomorrow? Let’s show you to your room so you can get some rest." Their posture was slumped with disappointment and helplessness. It made my chest ache. Maybe I just used the wrong greeting. I was determined to crack this nut. A few minutes later, I knocked and cracked the door open. "Hey, Big Bro—" SLAM! "Dear, beloved brother—" SLAM! "Oh mighty and powerful brother of mine—" SLAM! I just stood there, staring at the closed door. It felt like it had been welded shut this time. 2 The next morning, I took a screwdriver and took the door off its hinges. Mom and Dad stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching me. I could see the total validation in their eyes. Mom whispered to Dad, "With a sister like this, I'm not worried about him never talking again. She’s an absolute angel." I really had to lean into the screwdriver. I popped the doorknob off first. Then, with one final, mighty twist, the whole door came down. I looked inside and my eyes went wide. I didn't expect him to be so good-looking. He was like a K-pop idol, only paler. "Hi, brother! I'm Nan Yu, and I'm going to be your sister forever—" He didn't say a word. Instead, he took the thick hardcover book he was holding and hurled it at the cabinet, a clear expression of fury at the intruder. I just smiled at him, totally unfazed, and did a swan dive right onto his bed, tunneling under his comforter. Mom and Dad exchanged a silent look in the hallway and quietly disappeared. I reached out and tried to grab his hand. He yanked it away. I tried again. He yanked it away again. We played this game of hand-tag for about five minutes. I gave up. Time for the nuclear option: talking. I snatched the stuffed alligator he was clutching and hugged it to my chest. "You know, brother, back at the treatment center, I used to tell stories to all the stuffed animals every night. Now that I’m here, I’ll tell stories to you instead." The boy, let’s call him Ethan, didn’t say anything. He just stared blankly at his bedspread. Honestly, I was already satisfied. At least he wasn't calling me names like the kids at the center did. He hadn't even tried to grab his alligator back. I flashed him a bright smile. "Brother, I'm going to tell you the story of my life. Living in the group homes was actually pretty wild. Something crazy happened every day." "I was three when the director found me. My arm was broken. The director said it was lucky he found me, otherwise I would have ended up a disabled chatterbox. Haha." "After I moved in, I realized the other kids loved acting. They were always playing 'Mean Girls,' pretending they were royalty." "They made the little kids, like me, bow down to them. We had to tie their shoes, wash their clothes, and clean the whole place. I told them I couldn't clean because my arm was broken. Guess what?" "They said since they were royalty, even the disabled kids had to work. I wasn't going to listen to that. I intentionally spilled dirty water all over the leader and called her a fake bitch." Ethan’s fingers twitched slightly. He shot me a quick look out of the corner of his eye. I didn't notice. I just kept babbling. "But then the director walked in and heard me swearing. He got so mad. He made me clean all the bathrooms for a week. So I just fell asleep in one of the stalls for the night and didn't do any work at all. Aren't I smart? Hahaha." "And those other kids, because I was small, they always called me 'Short Stack.' Every time I heard that, I’d jump up and crack them over the head with a plastic shovel. Nobody called me that twice." "Of course, the big kids I couldn't beat up, so I just got wrecked by them every time I fought back. Good thing I’m tough as nails. Hahaha." "Eventually, I just learned to use my mouth. I could make those bullies cry just by verbally decimating them. I’m pretty good, right? Haha." I adopted a very serious tone, like I was teaching him a life lesson. "Listen to me, brother. If anyone ever gives you crap, you just call them a psycho. Say it with total conviction. It makes them think you're crazy, and they’ll back off." "Psycho... just remember that, psycho." I laughed and reached out to grab his hand again, hoping for some reaction. But as soon as I raised my hand, Ethan flinched and pulled his away violently. What the...? So we started the game again. I reached, he flinched. We did this for about thirty minutes. Eventually, I pressed him so hard he scrambled out of bed and fled to the living room. I was hot on his heels, hand outstretched. "Don't run, brother! I haven't finished the story yet!" Mom and Dad were in the living room and watched us burst in. Mom turned to Dad, tears in her eyes. "Honey, his mental state already looks so much better. He’s... vibrant. We definitely picked the right girl." Dad nodded, smiling. "We did, honey." Ethan looked completely fed up. 3 Mom and Dad decided that me just getting Ethan out of his bedroom made me some kind of genius miracle worker. They immediately rewarded me with a mountain of gifts. I dragged every single one of them into Ethan’s room (the one that still didn't have a door). "You don't have to be jealous," I told him seriously. "Whatever I have, you have half. Don't worry, I’m loyal like that!" My eyes began to gleam as I tore into the boxes. "Oh wow, a Louis Vuitton backpack! This one is mine, sorry, I need it for status." "Ooh! Fancy Victoria’s Secret silk pajamas! Definitely mine." "Whoa! Cute hair clips! Mine." "Kawaii pink fuzzy bunny slippers! Mine." "Pink dress? Mine." "Shiny black patent leather shoes? Mine." "Actually... everything is mine." I stared at the sea of pink, girly gifts on the floor and then looked up at him thoughtfully. "Maybe... do you like pink?" I stood up and reached for his hand. I caught him off guard and successfully grabbed it, then immediately shoved a small pink purse into his palm. "Haha! A gift for you!" Ethan acted like he had been struck by lightning. He violently whipped his hand away, hurling the purse across the room, and then began frantically scrubbing his palm against his sleeve. I looked at my hand, then at his. "Brother, your skin is so soft." Ethan started scrubbing even harder. 4 Mom and Dad saw that I had brought all my gifts into Ethan’s room and assumed I didn't like them. They decided to take me to the mall so I could pick things out myself. I looked over at the doorless bedroom. "Is brother coming? We should take him shopping with us." Mom and Dad looked uneasy. "Ethan doesn't really... like shopping," Mom said. I tilted my head, confused. "Who doesn't like shopping? It’s therapy! You probably just haven't introduced him to it the right way." "It’s not that," Dad explained. "He can't handle crowds. He gets extreme sensory overload and feels very unsafe. He... he might lose control." They took my hands and started leading me to the front door. I looked back over my shoulder. Through the sliding glass doors to the patio, I saw Ethan standing there, his face completely blank, staring at nothing. I stopped walking. I broke free from their grip and walked back toward him. He looked so lonely. I bet he wanted to be like a normal person, to just go out and live life. I turned back to Mom and Dad. "I’m not going. I’m going to stay here and hang out with my brother. Whatever you buy for me, I’m sure I’ll love!" I bolted up the stairs toward the second floor. I knew he was just standing there, waiting. Below, I heard Mom burst into tears. "Oh my god! She is an actual angel sent from above." I burst through the doorless entryway and grabbed Ethan’s hand before he could flinch. "I’m not going. I’m going to tell you stories instead." To my surprise, Ethan didn't yank his hand away this time. He actually let me lead him to the sofa, and he sat down right next to me. My eyes gleamed. I was a chatterbox unleashed. "Okay, brother! I'm going to tell you the story of 'The Little Match Girl'!" Ethan: "..." "Okay, so there was this little girl, right? She was super poor, but she lived in a house filled with nuclear bombs. She went out to sell them, but nobody wanted to buy any. She was freezing and starving, and she really missed her grandma, so she lit one of the nukes to get warm. That night, the whole village got to meet her grandma." Ethan: "..." I was really getting into it. "And then there’s the story of Little Red Riding Hood—hey, don't cover your ears, brother!" 5 Mom and Dad bought me even more gifts. The bedroom was almost overflowing. I started to feel a little guilty receiving all this, especially since I still hadn't gotten their son to talk. He hadn't even had a significant emotional reaction yet. But I still opened the closet doors to shove the new clothes in while yelling down the stairs for them to stop buying things. Mom and Dad just shared a smile. "We’ve decided to enroll you in school. Since we’ve adopted you, we're responsible for you. Education is mandatory." I looked at the doorless entryway. "Can I go to the same school as my brother?" Mom looked uncomfortable. "Honey, Ethan is a grade ahead of you. Even if he went, you wouldn't be in the same classes. And we honestly think home tutoring is better for him." I frowned. "But he needs to try to be around kids his own age. I did some research online, and it said socialization can really help." "Don't you want him to talk and communicate? If he goes to school, maybe he’ll make a friend. Maybe that’ll give him a reason to speak." They saw how adamant I was. They hesitated, but finally nodded. "Alright. We’ll try it." I cheered and bolted toward Ethan’s room. "Yes! That means we can have matching backpacks! Spiderman and Ghost-Spider!" Ethan: "..." 6 I was right about school. As soon as Ethan arrived on campus, he had a massive emotional reaction. His face went pale, his hands were shaking, and I could see the sweat on his forehead. The veins in his neck were bulging. He looked terrified. I immediately grabbed his hand and started guiding him through the crowded hallway, one step at a time. "Brother?" Ethan didn’t flinch this time. Instead, he gripped my hand with terrifying strength. It felt like he was trying to break my fingers. I gritted my teeth and endured it. But then I started hearing the comments from all around us. "Look at the freak. Why did they let the r-word back in school? If your brain is broken, stay home. You're bad luck." "Look at him, he can't even walk straight. He’s twitching like a glitching video game." "The freak brought his own personal nursemaid. Hilarious." "Look at his hands. That’s so weird. That’s that psycho-stimming thing they do, right? Haha. Normal people don't do that. We do this!" One kid started wildly waving his hands in a mocking gesture. In that moment, I understood. I understood why Ethan fought so hard against going to school. I turned on them, baring my teeth, my fists clenched. "Say one more word, and I will personally deliver you to the ER!" "Imagine being a literal child making fun of someone over a disability. Look in a mirror before you judge someone else, you absolute losers." "Stimming? Yeah, he’s stimming. What are you doing? Some kind of seizure dance? Maybe you need a nursemaid, you absolute joke!" I pointed at each one of them as I went down the line, decimating them. The crowd of bullies quickly dispersed. "The mute’s got a crazy dog on his leash. Let's go, let's go." I immediately turned back to Ethan, who had his head down, his fists clenched tight. I grabbed his hand gently. "Don't be scared. I’m here now. Nobody is going to mess with you." "They're just psychos. Don't pay any attention to them." I reached into my bag and pulled out a matching Fitbit Dad had bought us. I snapped the bands around his thin wrist. Then, I dramatically snapped the matching one around my own. "If anyone gives you trouble, you call me on this immediately. I promise I will be there in five seconds!" Ethan didn't say anything, but he stared at the Fitbit on his wrist like it was an alien artifact. 7 My morning performance at the school gates apparently scared off most of the casual bullies. Nobody messed with me in my classes. I focused on my schoolwork, but in the middle of my last period, my Fitbit started buzzing aggressively. I answered. All I heard were noises and cruel laughter. "Hey, dummy! Where’s your crazy sister now? Weirdos shouldn't be allowed in a normal school. Go back to the institution!" I threw my books in my bag and bolted out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher. I ran toward the playground and saw Ethan. He was surrounded by a group of older boys. They were kicking and punching him, but he wasn't reacting. He was curled in a ball, his right hand tightly protecting the Fitbit on his left wrist. I went absolutely feral. I charged into the circle, shoulder-checking two boys to the ground. "You absolute animals! Picking on him?! Fight me, you cowards!" The group of boys quickly recovered and surrounded me. "Oh look, the nursemaid. You really think you can take all of us?" I was preparing my verbal assault when I felt a hand on my arm. Ethan had stood up and was gently shaking his head at me. I finally noticed the cut on his lip. I took a deep breath, trying to control my rage. "Don't be scared, brother. I forgot to tell you, I was the unofficial heavyweight champion of the treatment center. I can take three of them, easy." I dropped my backpack and, under their shocked stares, I pulled a thick wooden dowel out of the side pocket. I had scavenged it from a shop class. "Holy shit. This bitch is actually insane." 8 By the time Mom and Dad arrived at the Principal’s office, only Ethan and I were there, staring at each other. I gave a little smile and reached out to pluck a piece of grass from his hair. "My brother is so good-looking, he even looks good with a lawn on his head." Ethan turned his head away. "What happened?!" Mom’s voice was full of panic. I immediately felt a lump in my stomach. This is it. I’m going to get in trouble. They're going to send me back. I nervously gripped Ethan’s hand. He didn't pull away. Instead, he gripped my hand back, hard. I was shocked. In a fit of absolute joy, I slid my fingers between his, interlacing our hands properly. "This girl... she used a wooden weapon and put three students in the hospital," the Principal said, looking terrified. "The parents are demanding police involvement..." Mom and Dad looked at me. I shrank back, already imagining my backpack being packed. But before I could apologize, Mom and Dad surprised me. They hugged me. "Nan Yu, don't be scared. Tell us the truth. We will handle this." I was stunned. So you can mess up and not get screamed at or kicked out? I pulled my Fitbit out of my pocket and played the recording. "They were picking on my brother first. I didn't beat up people. I beat up animals!" The Vice Principal rolled his eyes. "No class whatsoever..." But when the recording finished playing, the administration went silent. Mom and Dad’s faces were stony. When they heard the words "freak" and "retarded," I could see Mom’s hands shaking with rage. "This is what you call a 'safe educational environment'?" Dad asked, his voice low and deadly. "I think the Sterling Group needs to reconsider donating that new library wing."
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