Silent Voice

Chapter 17 - Upheaval

Content warning: major ableism and attempted murder

Mr. White stands in his kitchen, using a mortar and pestle to grind pills into powder. He's emptied several bottles into his mixture, and his hands are coated in fine powder, little white specks he can't seem to rid himself of no matter how hard he tries. What a mess!

But that's fine, that's fine. Soon there will be no more messes, no more screams, no more disorder. Things will be as they should. The little monster will be gone, both from his life, and the world in general.

It would be irresponsible, after all, to let her become somebody else's problem. Low-functioning children are takers, never givers. They cry, they scream, they beg, they eat, they ruin things. They never say "I love you," never thank their parents, just suck the life out of anyone who makes the dreadful mistake of getting saddled with one of them. Some of them are even worse than his daughter, just organic machines that turn food into feces.

In past years, Mr. White donated heavily to Autism Rescue. But not this year. No, Autism Rescue has failed him. All these years, all this pain, and his child still has autism. They didn't cure her. And the expensive therapies made her respect him more, made her freeze when he gave commands and obey him more quickly, but they did not stop her from being sloppy or slow or infuriating. No, his daughter still has autism.

And now, he has crushed enough pills to poison a horse. It's time to do the sensible thing, the realistic thing, and rid the world of one more burden.

Someone knocks sharply on the door.

Mr. White groans. Right now, really? He's been imprisoned with that monster for nine years, and just when he was about to be rid of her...!

Oh, well. He supposes his freedom can wait five more minutes.

Summary: Mr. White crushes up pills to feed to his daughter in order to kill her. He obsesses over her difficulties and his failed attempts to eradicate anything he sees as being caused by autism (including ordinary childhood traits like being messy, needy, and self-centered). He is interrupted by a knock at the door.

Soon

Claire's dad parks the car at the curb, and Claire rockets out of the passenger seat. They're in front of an enormous house, with a fenced-in yard and view of the water. A police car is parked nearby, and a black woman in police uniform (Aunt Jess? Not Aunt Jess? Claire can't tell from this far away) stands nearby.

The gate is open, and out runs Glitter, barefoot, dress smudged with dirt, hair knotted and tangled. "Claire?" she says. "Claire's dad? I dunno what's going on..."

"Come here," Claire types. Glitter runs up to her and lets Claire envelop her in a tight hug. Claire begins stroking Glitter's hair, hoping to calm her.

The policewoman strides over. Yes, it's Aunt Jess. "John, what on earth are you thinking, bringing Claire to a CPS call?" she demands.

"She kind of brought me, Jess," says Claire's dad. "We know the little girl." He gestures to Glitter, whose arms are still wrapped tightly around Claire.

"I see," Aunt Jess says. "I'm here to keep any overly-curious bystanders away."

"We'll watch Glit, er, Elizabeth for you," replies Claire's dad. "She could use some familiar faces."

Aunt Jess nods. "Thanks, big bro. See you Sunday at Mom's?"

"Looking forward to it," says Claire's dad.