I had always known that my sister and I were the same, yet different. We were identical twins. We had the same dark brown hair, the same deep blue eyes, the same clear skin. The same and yet different.
You would see we were different right away. My sister would not look at you, would not talk to you, would not even know you were there. She was autistic. I was not.
...I turned fourteen and things changed. I’d been noticing for some time that most people my age, people on television or in books, had friends. I had a friend too, my sister, but it wasn’t the same. I talked to Mom and Dad about it and they agreed. It was time to have friends. It was time to go to school.
Mom said the timing was excellent. Chelsea was older now and Mom said she could take care of her without my help...We’d just moved to a small town, Clearwater. The high school, she said, was very small and could accommodate people with differing abilities.
I was glad of that. I knew I read faster and knew more things than other people my age. I figured that meant I had differing abilities. We made an appointment to visit the school. Mom said that decision was a “turning point” in my life.
It was quite some time before I understood what she’d meant by that.