My Brother Is an Egg [Short Story]

My brother is an egg. He is oval, white, and very fragile. Seeing him so fresh to the world, and so unknowing, it pains me. He is the purest form of life, waiting until the day of his hatching, not knowing when it will come or what will come of it. I know. Our mum knows. We don’t have a dad, they don’t need dads.

My brother is an egg. He sits around all day, waiting for his time to come. But he will never have a time. He is a boy. I cry sometimes, knowing that he will have been an egg longer than he will ever be a chicken. I am merely a chick myself, but I know more about the world than he will ever know. I know that it’s cruel; my mother has gotten so used to it that her eyes don’t flinch anymore. I remember when she used to try to warm us all. Not just me, but all of the girls. All of her many, many daughters. We’re in a cage, you see. People don’t call it a cage; they say it’s not a cage because it’s a barn, and that we’re cage-free, but I can barely breathe here. My mother has gotten crushed accidentally so many times that her feathers are mangled. She isn’t that positive anymore. I try to be, but I’m so young that they don’t believe what I say. They know I haven’t had the worst of it yet. Even after the debeaking, the most painful experience I have ever been through, they’re telling me that was just the start.

My brother is an egg. He is starting to shake. He wants to see the world, to be free, to dance. A little crack here, another crack there. He is ready. But he shouldn’t be. What awaits him is a horror story. I have only heard folk tales of what goes on but we all know the basics. They talk about it sometimes. There is a conveyer belt, and there is blades. He will not live to tell the tale.

My brother is hatching. His body is shivering, he is starting to wonder. Where is he? What is he? Where will he be going? We all know the answers, of course, but he doesn’t. He is a baby, and I want to wrap him in my wings and keep him close to me.

My brother is a chick. A hand reaches down and snatches him. He lets out a soft startled squeak. He wants to be with his mummy. Is that too much to ask? He is dragged away, and that is the last time I ever see my brother, but it is not the last time I imagine him. I imagine his scream amplified as he falls off the conveyer belt, I imagine his body being ripped apart — but that is nothing compared to what I imagine next. I imagine him running around, in a field, happy. That is what breaks my heart the most.

My brother is dead.

Seven Reasons Why My Pets Are Robots

This is a list of reasons why my pets are robots.

  1. My dog, named The Pablo-62, runs to me when I get home. This is obviously a sign that he is a robot and is just doing what he is programmed to do.
  2. My cat, called The Diegometer-360, purrs all the time. This is definitely a sign of a malfunction; I will have to find my receipt.
  3. Another one of the cats in my residence, The Smiler-400, is not actually my cat. Another sign of malfunction, his registered home changed to mine somewhere in the line of things, and he is now in our home. This is surely a sign that these ‘pets’ are all broken.
  4. The Pablo-62 has a growl button. I’m not sure whether this was intentionally put in to deter people from touching his sides, but it certainly isn’t necessary. I will be contacting the distributors to discuss this problem.
  5. Sometimes they’ll just stare at me for hours. This is worrying and I am sure they are going to take over the world soon.
  6. They lie in uncomfortable places. Surely if these robots had emotions, they would not lie in wicker boxes, or rest their heads on wooden bars. It is odd.
  7. The cats and the dog co-exist. If they were not robotic, emotionless beings, they would hate each other. This is surely a sign of roboticism.

    This is a very, extremely, super serious post. All animals are robots and have no emotions. Watch out, or they might become sentient beings.

What Am I Doing With My Life?

So, two people in one day asked me the same question: what am I doing with my life? One conversation went something like this:

Them: Are you going to university?

Me: No.

Them: Are you working?

Me: No.

Them: Are you breathing…?

The other conversation was just a catch-up with an old friend, whom seems to have a really cool job as a teaching assistant with tiny children. I love children, so that seems fun. We talked a lot about our pets, and then about what we’re doing at the moment.

Anyway, it made me realise that people don’t understand me that well at all. These people that I’m friends with aren’t very similar to me. There is one friend I have who is very similar to me but we don’t meet up much, and it’s pretty much just her emailing me jokes that make me laugh. She thinks they’re not funny but they’re really my types of jokes!

So, I don’t have any prospects. I’m just an eighteen-year-old living with her parents. A lot of eighteen-year-olds live with their parents still, so I’m not too abnormal yet. My brother lives with my parents too — he’s nineteen! FYI: My mum moved out of her parent’s house at nineteen. I wish my brother took after her, because I really like the quiet. Just thinking is nice. And I can’t just think because he is constantly loud. I think I’ve complained about it a few times in blog posts… I have hyper-senses due to my autism, so every little sound really disturbs me! And he doesn’t even try to be quiet sometimes. The noise can be so loud…

Sorry for getting off topic! Basically, I think I should tell everyone a little thing about me: I don’t find it easy doing most jobs, or going to university. Both things involve interaction, and I have constant anxiety over every little thing, so something like that really wouldn’t work for me. I don’t know if I’ll get a job somewhen in the future, but right now, I don’t want one. I know that it would send my anxiety levels skyrocketing and my parents are fully supportive of me in everything I do. They want me to try working on my writing, but honestly, I’ve been stuck for ideas lately. Somewhen, I might go to university, or the open university, but it isn’t this year, or next. People need to live life at their own pace.

Not everyone should feel pressured to do what everyone else their age is doing. Sure, other people my age are at university or at a job: that isn’t me. Not right now, anyway. I have autism and it limits many of my social skills. Lots of people with autism do go to work or university, but I don’t find it works for me at the moment. I’m also pretty tired a lot of the time. I don’t know why, it’s kinda undiagnosed, but it stops me from being able to just go out and do things.

Remember that you shouldn’t feel like you have to do what the world is doing. You should do your own thing, be your own person. You can go to university if you want, that’s cool, but you should do it because you want to do it, not because everyone else is doing it. You can wait a year or two to try and figure out what you want to do in life. I want to be a cat, but unfortunately I haven’t figured out how yet. Maybe, one day…

Thanks for reading,

Lia

Sorry

I’ve not done a blog post for quite a few weeks, sorry, I just haven’t been feeling good. I don’t know why but sometimes I get really down and I guess that’s how i’ve been feeling these last few weeks.

Anyway, i thought i’d just update you to inform you that i’m not dead, even if i feel it. I’ve had issues with my front right tooth for years, ever since I cracked it skateboarding when I was a cool tomboy kid. So, they’ve been doing lots of treatment on me, but eventually decided the only way they could kinda fix it was to do the final root canal treatment under general anaesthesia as this meant they could do exactly what they wanted.  So, on Friday I had this done. I’ve never had general anaesthesia before so was kinda nervous but it went okay. I had a premed that made me giggle a lot and then they didn’t even told me they were giving me the general anaesthesia, they just did it and then a second later it was done and i was in my room. There were some patches of blood on my bed which confused me as I hadn’t had anything done that should warrant that much blood next to me. I still don’t know what it’s from, just that it’s definitely mine. 

 The first thing I remember saying is ‘did they steal my slippers?’ as I had gone in with them on and woke up with them off. They did not steal my slippers. I am happy. I have a cut on my foot from the wheelchair, which is not friendly. Apparently I cut it trying to get into the wheelchair.

 I was very emotional yesterday because my parents had made me go out as we had a house viewing, the day after I had general anaesthesia. So, I didn’t get to rest, and ended up crying in the evening at absolutely everything. 

Also, I am still annoyed that my mum ate two of my sandwiches. She said she made too many for my post op snack but i was starving and she ate two of them!! Monster. 

I also went to a children’s hospital despite being 18 and it was a great experience. I don’t think i’ll get to go again but it was lovely. I have a cute plaster on the back of my hand.

I’m still very dopey and have a sore throat from the tube. It was terrifying not knowing how I would respond to the drug, because my mum has had a lot of surgery and sometimes it wasn’t a good experience for her. However, because of this, she asked that I be given an anti sickness medicine and a small tube for my throat, which means the sore throat isn’t as bad as it could be.

I’m doing okay at the moment. 

Apart from that, my life hasn’t been too eventful.  I guess I just want to chill.