Autism: C'hele's Story

June 9, 2009

I’m Gone

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 04:54
I know I am gone. I know my family and friends are upset. I am upset 50%

because I wont get to see my family again and I never got to see my family again

and I never got a chance to say goodiey (goodbye) to my friends and family.

The outher (other) 50% why I am not sed (sad) is because I died in something I

love doing wiyle (while) I used to live on earth. I had a good life. My family

teatched (teached) and treated me well. My friends wher (were) nice and kind to

me. I had fun with my friends. I may be gone but I’m not lost. I will aksedently

(accidentally) touk (took) another path. You think I may be gone but I’m not.

Nomater (no matter) wher you go…nomater wher you are I will always be with

you right by your side every secone (second) of the rest of your life. In this note

is my one last chance to say goodbiey and have a good life. Don’t be sad or

afraid because I will be with you every step of your way looking down and

whatching you for as long and the rest of your life. Remember I didn’t die of

something or eneything (bad). I died in a place of something I loved doing.

 

P.s. Don’t be afraid to try eneything.

——————————————————————

My daughter presented this short story/letter to me this afternoon after school.  It took everything in me not to show obvious panic.  Because my daughter’s autism enables her to articulate to me exactly what this was about (due to communication impairments) it took a long time to get out the real story.

For those unfamiliar with my daughter, she has been taking formal esquestrian horse back riding lessons for about five years now.  When I read this, excuse the language, I almost crapped.  After a half an hour, of trying to figure this out, I finally got a reason as to “why” she wrote something like this.  She thinks this is a “poem” by the way.  To my shock, Michaela has expressed to me that she wants to write a book.  A book about a girl like her, who’s friends played a prank on her over at a horse stable.  The prank, caused the horse to rear up and fall backwards, killing both the horse and the rider.  The horse broke its neck and the rider was crushed by being pinned by the horse.  Michaela’s idea was that the girl in the story somehow “knew” that the possibility of an accident occuring whilst horseback riding could happen at any time.  So, the girl thought that perhaps its a “good idea” that she write a letter to her family and friends telling them how much the riding meant to her and that she died loving what she was doing.  The letter of course, was secreted away until found after her death. 

I am stunned.  Looking down at the paper on which Michaela wrote, I did not notice the handwriting.  Its suddenly changed.  Her spelling has improved greatly.  I had NO idea she could clearly echo down on paper what was in her head.  I am shocked (and happy- sort of) to find what kind of an imagination she has. 

“This idea just popped into my head, I have no idea how it happened mom.”

I feel sick to my stomach.   

 

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March 11, 2009

A Short Story – The Cosmic Tree

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 09:08

How absolutely beautiful did that tree look. So beautiful, it immediately softened and transformed the worn, hardened look on my face into awe. Sprawling far from left to right, it displayed a grace, strength and wisdom that I sensed, I will never begin to understand. Burdened, the tree was loaded with fresh, new green leaves and there- it did sit, never moving. Not even a leaf shuddered. Some people say: “as above, so below it“. And so it was. The cerulean blue sky matched the vast body of water beneath it. And there did this very ancient, magnificent tree sit. The dark bark, bled brown from the tree top down until it met the water and there the roots were transformed white. Spreading out as far and wide as its canopy, did the tree silently and motionlessly sit…still never moving. There it sat, half in and half out of the tropical-like blue waters. Bewildered, I blinked my eyes once to digest this remarkable sight. Opening them again, I viewed many men in wet suits swimming around the tree’s roots, deeply immersed within the calm waters. Looking back up into the canopy, my skin immediately crawled and shivered, but not from cold. For camouflaged deep within the tree, sat a creature as old as time itself.  My whole body tingled with realization- this would not be the last time I would meet her, nor was this vision an accident.

February 2, 2009

A Short Story – The Transformation

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 07:09

Standing alone in the unfamiliar room, she instinctively knew that she wasn’t really alone. The unfamiliar surroundings didn’t help much to ease her fears either. She knew that “something” was happening even thought she couldn’t see it. The very air in the room vibrated. She was sure that it had to do with her personally. She could sense it and her intuition was never wrong. Feeling the need to stretch her arms out in front of her, she did so and crossed them at the wrists. Suddenly, out of thin air, something that resembled two long snakes began to spiral around her wrists. Platinum coloured and supple like rope, it slowly and almost methodically twisted and rhythmically coiled about binding her wrists together. So entranced by the movement of the two strands, it was too late to panic. Her wrists were now bound together with something that resembled steel. While struggling to free her hands, she noticed that the strands started to manifest themselves into colour; one strand became a light-red and the other, a light-blue that sparkled with something that resembled glitter. Her skin began to tingle. The strands felt as if they had a life force of their own. Something had started- she could feel it. What it was exactly, she was unable to say. No, her life wasn’t threatened. But something insider her “was” transforming.

January 31, 2009

A Short Story – The Buried Treasure

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 10:49

Bored out of her mind, Melissa sat outside on the wet lawn in the backyard one cold, rainy day. Equipped with nothing but a hand shovel, she picked at the lawn until she reached the dark, clay earth. She had nothing to do, so why not continue? The picking eventually became full scoopfuls of dirt. Focusing on the odour of the rich earth, she wondered, “would I find anything interesting buried deep within the dirt?” She was told that the four-plex and neighbouring homes were built on ancient Indian ground now owned by the government. She heard rumours that it had once been an ancient aboriginal burial ground hundreds of years ago. Would she find anything? Bones? Jewellery? Gold? Buried treasure? Her eyes widened at the potential possibilities. Her excitement was building along with her imagination. It wasn’t long before a very large pile of dirt lay beside her and the hole in front of her was at least two feet deep. Looking towards her ground level apartment, Melissa noticed her parents staring back at her from the kitchen window in disbelief. With a look of pure excitement, she pointed towards the hole in a jabbing motion. She kept digging until she heard a muffled clang. Holding her breath in pure exhilaration, she began to dig further. Slowly, with her fingers, she brushed away some dirt until she could make out a few letters.

“Oh, my God,” she thought. “We’re gonna be rich!”

Convinced that she had found buried treasure, she ran towards the house to fetch her parents. Filthy from head to toe in mud and soaked to the bone, her father refused to let her in. Mel was so excited that she could hardly get the words out to her dad what she thought she had found. Dragging her dad out in the now pouring rain, she brought him before the hole. Dropping to her knees, she pointed to the letters on the object.

“See? Dad! I found buried treasure!!!! We’re gonna be rich!”

Melissa’s fathers eyes were fixated on the object in the ground. Suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm.

“Melissa! That’s not buried treasure honey! That’s a gas pipe!!! You need to stop banging it with the shovel!!”

Completely devastated and deeply embarrassed, Melissa turned and walked towards the house as her father patched up the hole with the pile of dirt beside it. Defeated, Melissa removed her dirty clothes and threw them in the hamper. Immediately putting on her p.j’s., Mel then closed the curtains in her room and crawled into bed. It was only two o’ clock in the afternoon. A few minutes later, her mom came into the room with a steaming cup of hot cocoa and a few cookies. Placing them down on the table beside the bed, she commented:

“It was a nice thought you know. It would have been neat to have found something so important and become rich because of it.”

And with that, she turned and left the room.

With hands under her head, Melissa thought to herself; “Yeah, it would have been neat. Tomorrow, I’m going to start digging behind the garage instead. I‘m almost sure that there are Dinosaur bones buried somewhere behind there.“ Mel’s motto was after all, “Patience is a virtue.” The next step? Hiring more hands to dig. The pop bottles she had collected and saved, should be enough to cover that.

 

January 30, 2009

A Short Story – The Eagle’s Feather

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 06:11
The store is located in an older part of the municipality. Entering through the doorway, one immediately notices the shadowy, amber lighting and the lingering, heavy scent of burnt cedar and sage. Walking ahead of the front door, one cannot help but take notice of the battered antique tables, shelves and other assorted antique objects. Its so cluttered inside. There are books piled in various places within the store in disarrayed stacks. I assume that they are used books for sale. Its difficult to distinguish the kind of store this is due to the dusky lighting and the hazy fog veiling the atmosphere. Intrigued, I walked a few feet ahead and looked over my left shoulder. I take note of a woman approximately ten years older than myself standing at a counter. There are old, round, decorative plates scattered in no particular order, all over the counter top and filled with various semi-precious stones, assorted divination cards and other small interesting knick-knacks. With a huge smile on her face, the woman asks me how I am doing.

“Its been a long time since I’ve seen you last,” she said.

Slanting my head sideways, I observe her with a puzzled look and question her, “has it?”

“I met you a long time ago in a store similar to this one. You can help me with mine if you want to,” she replied.

Squinting my eyes, I try to look deeper within the store but still cannot clearly observe the surroundings. The smudged-smoky air was too thick. It looked anything but the store I once worked in. Looking back at the woman behind the counter, I smile sheepishly and tell her, “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.”

Smiling, the woman tells me: “You gave me a beautiful blue coloured Beatitudes bracelet once. I never forgot your kindness.”

Walking around the counter to stand in front of me she says, “I have something special to show and give you. I know you’ve wanted one for a long time.”

I follow her into another adjoining room and observe that it is as cluttered as the main store room. Looking at the far wall, I observe a single, large, and perfectly formed Eagles feather leaning up against it. The feather was inserted into a large, colourfully bundled smudge stick that lay atop a huge and beautiful iridescent coloured Abalone shell. I stare at it in disbelief.

“How did she know that I’ve always wanted an Eagles feather?” I thought to myself.

Suddenly, I am humbled. The kindness that I had once bestowed to this woman had been forgotten. But, the universe didn’t forget.

 

January 28, 2009

A Short Story from a Novice Architect Eyes…

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 06:50

The misty, cold, and dismal day called for some serious creative work or she‘d go mad. Walking into the room, the novice architect critically viewed the small expanse before her. It would be a challenge to secure the many corner foundations of her assignment. After all, she had only two blankets in which to shape her project. The question was; how to do it without damaging the materials. She would need to locate additional and forbidden but necessary materials. With an uncertain look on her face, she pondered on the negative consequences that most likely she would have to face. She was resolute: she would risk any potential, negative consequences of her actions. Lifting her chin up with determination, she convinced herself that once her masterpiece was finished, the landlord would of course, forgive her of any transgressions. She was sure of it. It would be a work of art!

Unnoticed, the architect retrieved the two blankets from the hallway closet and ran to the secreted place and positioned them under her bunk-bed. Quietly walking to the doorway, she poked her head out from the archway and made sure the way was clear of any potential intruders. Running to another hallway closet, the architect cautiously snatched a broom and a pail full of clothes pins. Slowly backing out of the cloakroom, she tip-toed back to her creative space. Evaluating the areas that would most secure her structure, the blankets were laid out accordingly. Pinned together by the clothespins, the structure slowly manifested. Carefully crawling beneath the blankets, the main supporting beam, the broom, was placed in the centre of the soon to be structure. Slowly, lifting the broom upright, the structure finally evolved. Success! It didn’t collapse. Running to her bed and ripping off the bed quilt, she carefully laid it out on the floor under her new structure. Quickly fetching her sleeping bag, pillow, t.v., and her cat bed before the evil one could stop her, she placed them accordingly under her Arabian tent.

Turning the t.v. on, and settling quite comfortably within her sleeping bag, she jolted with a sudden realization: she better show and convince her landlord to keep the new structure.

Needless to say, she was more than successful. Her exotic Arabian tent was allowed to remain until the next wash day.

November 6, 2008

The Enigmatic Labradorite

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 08:56
She was a heavier set woman. Dressed in a loose, forest green suit, she walked around me busy, with something I could not determine what. Watching her move about, I could not help but admire the large, round lustrous Labradorite that set nestled between her breasts. Approximately the size of a small plum, it shimmered of swirling colours of dark navy blues, yellow, gold and greens. As the woman moved about, the colours within the stone seemed to move too. It was like watching what a hurricane looks like when watching it on the monitor on the evening news.

Commenting on the loveliness of her pendant, she slowly turned and removed it, placing it on a nearby table. I looked down upon the stone that she laid on the table. The colours swirled about as if mist, then suddenly parted. Mesmerized by the sight, I look deeper within the stone. Unexpectedly, I observe the head of some unspecified “thing.” Startling me, it turned its head to look at me. Fascinated, I was speechless, looking at some creature with deep, reddish-orange skin. The creature appeared to be looking at me kindly- I saw no obvious malice within its hoodless black eyes.

The creature had a reptilian appearance and its red-orange face was accented by a blaze of tropical yellow that began at the top of its forehead and stopped just before the end of its nose. Lowering my face closer to the Labradorite, I would not remove my eyes to look at the woman when she spoke: “Did you see it? Did you see the…..?”

So captivated by what I just witnessed, I failed to hear what she named the creature. Still looking at the stone, the swirling mist of colours slowly veiled over to erase the red skinned creature. Stunned by what I just witnessed, all I could do was to pick up the large pendant, thank her, and return it back into her hand.

 

This, was my dream last night. Bizarre.

 

August 20, 2007

In 50 Words

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 02:49
The massive, stark-white form, stood out like chalk on a blackboard against the clear, cerulean blue sky. Gracefully soaring amongst the firmament, its wings bore the beast with confidence and power, just as a dragon would. Arching upwards and soaring to the right, it plunged down towards the earth.
 
 

 

May 18, 2007

The Tempests: Another Short Story

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 10:59

She stood on the waters edge looking at the point where the sea meets the horizon. Digging her toes into the oyster coloured sand, she was soothed by the gritty, yet silky feeling it provided her. Smiling softly, she raised her right foot and boldly stepped out onto the water. The fluid was incredibly firm and warm, like stepping into a shallow puddle on a hot summers day. Gracefully, she slowly sauntered out onto the water and then her pace soon quickened. Her grey-blue eyes widened wildly and her heart began to race. She felt her excitement intensify the closer she approached the glistening horizon. Suddenly, mysterious heavy clouds of grey, white, and black, slowly circled and entwined themselves together until it had filled the whole sky. The clouds were now spiralling furiously by the time she reached it. The undercurrent beneath her feet suddenly became unstable and she feared that if she were not more careful, she could loose her balance. Long tresses like the colour of smoke, flew about her furiously as she extended her arm out and positioned her hand within the base of the twister. Determined, her long, warm fingers promptly connected with cool ones and the hands firmly clasped themselves tightly together. Unsteady on the water, she pulled with all her might until she finally met, face to face, with herself. Still holding hands, they greeted each other with a mischievous grin and turned around simultaneously to face the land. Glancing at each other excitedly, they suddenly ran back across the water until their feet were upon the shore. Running to a bungalow situated a few meters away from the waters edge, they ran inside, bolted the door, and embraced each other while laughing.

C’hele

May 17, 2007

200 Word Fiction, A Short Story

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 04:14
The overcast sky was mottled with dark, sunset-red hues and swarming with flying, spectral-like dragons. I stare at this intimidating spectacle with awe, but I am not afraid. After all, its just a dream. I can see the outlines of their legs as they drift effortlessly through the air and I ponder on how much they resemble a Tyrannosaurus Rex, only with wings. Attempting to make sense of my surroundings I look over to my right, then over my shoulder. My eyes softly fall upon a most beautiful meadow filled with assorted variegated green and yellow flora. Amongst this serene landscape I am beset by the sight and stillness of two tall and magnificent horses who are looking intently back at me. A mare and her stallion are all alone amongst this setting and I cannot help but become mesmerized by their beauty as I gaze upon them. The mare shining like silver as if it were the very reflection of the moon itself, stood elegantly beside her mate whose own body was iridescent and swirling with amethyst and sea-green hues. My heart suddenly leaps with fear at the realization, that I really am in another world. Where am I?

C’hele

 

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