I got a lot of people asking for a continuation of this story, so I caved in and wrote another :) I often fight with my brother, and I can actually scream the house down. I have a pretty bad temper, and I did make my brother cry once. I can get really pissed off, and throw things and swear and kick stuff - I probably look pretty scary. Living with an autistic kid can be hard and annoying sometimes, but there are other times when it's all worth it :) Anyway, enjoy this little short story! Read and review :)
I love Sam. I really do. I love him with everything that I am, and if I could, I'd love him with more. But sometimes, he just really pisses me off.
Like the times I'm working. I'll be working on homework, or helping Dad with some hunting trouble he's got, and Sam will come up and pester me. He'll ask me silly questions about the movie he's just watched. Movies he can probably quote word for word because he's seen them so many times. Sometimes he'll ask me if I want to play with him. He'll ask me if we can play with his dinosaurs, the animals he's obsessed with. He knows everything there is to know about dinosaurs. If you ever need to know something about dinosaurs, Sam's the one to ask. Sometimes he'll ask me to do his chores for him, because he's busy playing or watching something.
Usually I'll just say I'm busy, and I have to finish what I'm doing. He'll nod, and wander off to do his own thing. But sometimes I'm already pissed off. Be it someone at school, the amount of stupid homework I have, or Dad being an idiot again, it doesn't matter. I'll just be angry, maybe even for no good reason. And that's when I yell at him.
I yell really loudly. I can scream the house down when I'm really angry. Dad and I can have arguments that have the neighbours calling the police on us. So when I get angry with Sam, I explode.
One time, I was working on some homework due the next day. Dad wanted me to finish it, because I was already failing most of my subjects, and he didn't want the school getting involved with our lives. So I was working on it, when Sam comes in. He wants me to play with him. I told him I couldn't, that Dad said I had to finish my homework. But Sam was being stubborn and persistent that day, and he kept asking.
Over and over again he asked me to play with him. Every time I told him as calmly as I could that I couldn't because I was busy. Eventually, I couldn't take the incessant questioning anymore. I stood up, throwing my homework on the table and scaring Sam with the noise it made. I glared at him.
"Just fucking leave me alone!" I yelled, curling my hands into fists.
Sam flinched and looked terrified. He backed away from me and into the wall behind him.
"Go away!" I screamed.
Sam sniffed and I was horrified when I realised he was crying. He ran away, slamming the door behind him. I just stood there for a moment, in shock. I couldn't believe what I'd just done. I'd made my little brother so scared he was crying.
I ran from the room to find him. I heard him crying from the kitchen, and I dashed inside. He was leaning against the table leg, knees curled against his chest, crying. I knelt down beside him. He flinched away from me.
"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm really sorry," I said, reaching out to hug him. He scrambled away from me.
"No!" he yelled, running away from me, out of the kitchen.
I could only stare as he ran away. I knew he would eventually forgive me – he always did – but at that moment I felt so disgusted with myself. I knew he couldn't help it. I knew he didn't understand the same stuff everyone else his age did.
Sometimes that fact really annoys me. Sometimes I'd actually be embarrassed because of him, because he'd said something to one of my few and rare friends that he didn't realise sounded stupid, or weird, or just unable to be understood. I always felt bad about it afterwards, because my friends weren't as important to me as Sammy was. I would always move on, leave those friends behind, make new ones at another school. But Sam was always there, always my responsibility to look after.
Eventually Sam did forgive me. He'd almost totally forgotten about it by the next day. But that didn't stop the guilt I felt for days afterwards. Even now, whenever I get angry at Sam for something that he couldn't help, I feel guilty.
I guess that's never going to go away, but for now, I can try and be calm, and I can try and be the best big brother I can be to Sam. Because no one else can do it.