Autism Notes

Part 6: My Father

"Sebastian!" My dad came running after me, he saw me sitting in a tree already. I used to climb up that tree when I was a child and was subverted by my parents, or anyone of higher authority than I.

I glared down at him crying. My father has never seen me sob before. Just then, my mother crept out of the front door, extremely solicitous. I realized I had no choice but to come down and face both of them.

"Bastian..." My dad said, his voice shaking.

I didn't say anything, my breathing intensified. I was apprehensive to crawl down that tree. The ground seemed 2,000 feet below me. I looked up and thought I could grasp the white fluffy clouds above my head. Everything felt so surreal.

"Dad..." I whispered, shutting my eyes tightly as he kept his eyes fixed on me, and my mother raced over to the tree. I reflected back on my adolescent years, where if I slipped on a field coated in dew in the early mornings, I would be swept off me feed and coddled. That was all I wanted right now but, I craved for the truth. I didn't want them to throw this over their inconsiderate heads. I was acrimonious, I wanted an explanation for this. As I sat in wonder above them, they called up to me again.

"Bastian?"

I sternly replied, "What."

My parents were attempting to be gentle with me, "Sebastian, come down now. Please."

"Why? ..Why did you hide this from me?" Tears started running down my face.

"Y...You know..." My mother became teary eyed and was stuttering constantly. She entangled her right arm with my father weeping.

"Yes.. I know.. it was staring me right in the face the whole night. It was in my notebook, it all made sense!!" I clenched both my fists, I was beyond angered with them.

My dad seemed to be the only one keeping his sanity. He had a cold hearted soul. Just looking into his eyes I could tell he was finding some strange amusement in all of this. Maybe... My dad always knew... He loathed me.

"How.. how could you hide this from me!? What is wrong with you!? You lied to me my whole life!"

"Sebastian Michael. Get down from there. NOW." My father was becoming aggressive to the point where I thought he would beat me.

"No Kevin. " He stood there stunned, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. I was denying him of being my father. I would never allow such disgrace be proud to have the title Father.

"Wh.. what did you just call me?"

"Kevin. Kevin Patrick White."

"SEBASTIAN!" My mother called.

"Do not address your father in such a disgusting manner."

"Father? FATHER!? You expect me to say that he is my father?! What father hides the fact their son is autistic!? What PARENTS do that!?"

"A parent concerned for their child's physiologic min-" I cut him off. He was no psychologist. He knew nothing about my mental health, he was utterly self centered.

"No. A parent who is afraid he will be an embarrassment to the world because his son has an incredible medical condition that can not go undiagnosed." My father stayed placid. He knew what I was saying was true, he was just too narcissistic to admit that I was right.

I jumped out of the tree the moment my dad opened his mouth and was about to speak. I didn't want to be at eye level with him. He disgusted me in all possible ways, but something pushed me to reach the ground... To this day I believe it was my guardian angel. The second my feet hit the ground, I felt a shock of pain stab all my joints, I haven't leaped down from that tree in ages. When I hit the ground I was staring my father right in the face. His blank soulless eyes locked directly into mine, I felt myself frozen there. I was captivated by his gaze. I wanted to smack him, but my poor mother was there. I don't blame her for not telling me about my condition. My father would have physically abused her from what I know and the way he talks to me. I accuse solely my father for all of this. It was in all of this something was clicking in my head, in my notes and my reading it had something about genetics being involved in the development of certain mental disorders, while aspergers and autism generally aren't genetic, I feel like my father's own unstable mentality was the cause of all of this. He's the reason my Autism notes are attached to my soul.