The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy With Autism

Shun’s eyes, one by one, the orbs popped …
    Chiming …
    Chiming …
    Chiming …
    Shun thought he recognized the bell-like sound, from a long, long time ago.
    In her hospital room, Shun’s mother woke up from her sleep.
    Shun’s father was anxious: ‘How are you feeling?’
    But she didn’t make any reply.
    ‘Look, if you’re feeling bad, I’ll fetch the doctor.’
    But just as he was about to hurry off, Shun’s mother opened her mouth to speak: ‘Shun came to see me … in my dream.’
    Shun’s father held her hand. ‘That’s nice, love.’
    She went on, with tears in her eyes, ‘Shun told me, “I’m right here, always, so you’re not to cry any more, okay?” He looked terribly unhappy, because of, because of the state I’m in. I need to pick myself up, and, and … put all the pieces back together again.’
    Shun’s father nodded. ‘Yes. Shun
is
always watching over us. Let’s … somehow … begin again. Make a fresh start.’
    At the window, the first snow of the year was falling lightly. The snow’s crystals had formed from Shun’s tears, and were God’s proof that a boy called Shun had once lived in this world.
    ‘Look,’ said Shun’s mother. ‘It’s snowing. It’s beautiful.’
    ‘First snow,’ said Shun’s father. ‘He always did love the snow, didn’t he?’
    Five years came and went. As had been promised, in the year after Shun’s decision, a new baby had arrived in Shun’s family. She was a girl, and was named ‘Nozomi’ to signify ‘Hope’. Nozomi was due to start kindergarten that spring.
    ‘Hang on, Nozomi!’ her mum called out. ‘Wait for me!’
    ‘I’ll run ahead a bit, Mummy,’ Nozomi called back as she ran.
Mummy walks so slowly. As soon as I get to the supermarket, first thing I’ll do is to buy some chocolate
. She ran on without looking where she was going, and bumped into someone. ‘Oh! I’m very sorry,’ said Nozomi.
    ‘Are you okay?’ asked a man in a red hat. ‘Hey, you’re the one who …’
    ‘Do you know me?’ asked Nozomi, curiously. ‘Who are you?’
    The man hunkered down on his heels: ‘Are you back here already? This here old man’s an angel, believe it or not.’
    Nozomi thought this was a bit suspect, because angels are supposed to have wings and live in Heaven. ‘Oh no you’re not.’ She stared back at the old man with her big round eyes.
    A cheerful laugh escaped him. ‘Anyway, are you having a content enough life?’
    What does ‘a content life’ mean anyway?
Nozomi had to think about this.
Mummy and Daddy quite often say, ‘We’re having a pretty content life’. So yes,
I
must be having a content life, too
. Nozomi beamed at the old man. ‘Of course I am.’
    Finally, Nozomi’s mum caught up with her daughter, out of breath. ‘What are you up to now?’
    ‘Talking to him.’ Nozomi turned back, but there was nobody there. ‘Oh. Where did he go?’ Nozomi looked around. ‘There was this funny old man … he said he was an angel.’
    ‘I’ve told you not to talk to strangers,’ Nozomi’s mum said, a little sharply.
    So that old man was a stranger?
Nozomi’s heart went taut with a sort of joy.
What’s this I’m feeling now?
    ‘Anyway,’ said her mother. ‘Let’s get on with the shopping, shall we?’
    Oh yes, the chocolate
. ‘Mummy, can you buy some chocolate? One bar for me and one for my brother, so that’ll be two bars, please.’
    ‘All right, all right. But you’re going to scoff them both down, I bet.’
    ‘That’s because he says I can have his.’
    ‘Lucky you to have such a nice brother.’
    On their way back from the supermarket, Nozomi’s mum was thinking about Shun.
One day, in the future, I’ll see Shun again. Until that day, I’ll manage. I’ll manage just fine
.
    Nozomi started running off again. ‘Mummy! Let’s go and see the cherry trees that my brother used to love.’
The things my brother used to like are the same things that I like
. Gazing at the cherry blossom, Nozomi wondered what sort of a person Shun was.



A FTERWORD
    What am I going to be, if my autism can never be cured?
When I was little, this question was always a big, big worry. I used to be afraid that as long as I was autistic, I’d never be able to live properly as a human being. There were so many things I couldn’t do like other people, and having to apologize day in, day out totally drained me of hope.
    I hope that by reading my explanations about autism and its mysteries, you can come to