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.

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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

My mind

I have a mind that nobody but me understands. That can be pretty painful at times because you try to get people to connect and they can’t. It’s also special though because it gives you a place that nobody will ever be able to walk into. No matter where you are, what you’re doing, nobody can get there.
My mind is the most dangerous place in the universe though. It holds more threat that anything else. It has the power to do anything. It holds the knives that can stab us or other people, it holds the bombs that can light up an entire stadium with fear, it holds the rope that ties us to it. We can never escape our mind. It will always be there.

I sometimes feel like my mind is so conflicted that I would be better off if I did escape it, but then I realise that it holds memories I never want to leave, as well as ones I would tear apart if I had the chance, and I feel even more conflicted.

Mental health is the cancer of the mind; it destroys hopes, dreams, possibilities. It becomes something so infectious that soon your entire body suffers. You might snack unnecessarily, or not eat at all; I get so conflicted sometimes that I do both. One day I snack so much, other times I don’t want to eat. You might sleep too much, or not at all. Again, I do both. Some nights I don’t sleep, though these are rarer than the nights I do, but during the day I nap. A lot. I get exhausted from everything. Sometimes my body just won’t work. You might have problems internally as well, such as IBS, which has no known cure. It’s horrible. You might seem fine, heathy, but you know that your body is responding. It’s sending you signals. All these health problems are connected.

Our mind is the most lonely place, yet it is also the most free. You can be yourself there, but sometimes that can be terrifying. When I’m myself, I feel like I have nobody in the world. I suppose I don’t, not anyone that can truly enter my mind. My family are so wonderful but they don’t have my mind, or even a similar one. Some friends are similar, but I don’t want to bother them, when they have their own demons. And they’re too far away; or too hard to contact; or too busy, through no fault of their own, to really talk to. I suppose I am alone in this world and my mind is a cage.

But don’t worry: there is a key. It’s just on the other side.

That Time I… Almost Killed My Mum?!

Okay, so when I was seven I won a dance competition. The prize was four tickets to this amusement place called ‘The Milkyway’. It was really great there — lots to do.

I was having such a fun time, as was the rest of my family, until one devastating mini golf match. I was doing quite well, actually, and probably could’ve won… In my defence, my mum was standing too close to me.

You can probably imagine what happened next. I took my swing and the next thing I know, she was on the grass, holding her head, which was bleeding. Obviously, I felt terrible and like I was a criminal. I actually thought the police were coming for me and I was really crying.

I went in the ambulance with her and she had stitches. She was more comforting me than the other way around… I was in a terrible state! She was fine after she’d had the stitches done but I really felt like a criminal.

I hope we both learnt out lesson: don’t stand too close and always look before swinging…

Thanks for reading this post,

Lia