This is our routine. Touch toes, touch hands, touch cheeks, and goodnight.

It's 12:27am and counting.

Leading up to the beginning of a sleepless night we were just watching a movie, stretching out our limbs to touch, laughing at one another as I asked her to pose for me while I painted her figure onto a different head.

It's 12:27am and our goodnight is interrupted by screams, fits of rocking and singing various songs in different voices.

My sister has autism and this has be the new norm for 13 years and counting.

It's not always a bad day, nor a good one. It's always an unexpected adventure whether we want to go or not, even if we have work, or school in the morning. Thirteen years ago life threw my family a challenge, an unforgettable one at that because she’s the biggest elephant in the room. Even now I couldn't picture a life without her or a life where she doesn't have autism. But I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it.

Some days I want to hug and kiss her for being so sweet and loving, and other days I want to wring her neck or smack her on the forehead for being bratty and greedy. She's like any other sibling: you love and hate them at the same time, they wear your clothes, get into your makeup, get mad when you leave, and always want your affection or affirmation.

It's 12:35 and she's been kicked out of our room and into my parent’s room.

The walls in our house are bare because nothing in this world is certified Teaka-proof. (La’Teaka is her name) Thankfully her father is a carpenter. She broke it, he fixed it.

Growing up, I firsthand learned what responsibility and value meant. “If you valued it enough, you would have locked it up safely.” “If you was responsible, then you’d know where it was," were frequent lines my mother told me when my sister either destroyed or hid something of mine. We locked every door in the house from the inside and if it didn’t lock, we put a lock on it. For example; my stepfather built a door for the kitchen and for extra security we used to padlock the fridge too.

Going out in public was either a nightmarish time or a delightful memory.

Nightmarish was when she would have an episode in the middle of the city. Crying, screaming, biting, and scratching herself and anyone who was close enough in her reach. Or taking your favorite item and destroying it because you disciplined her. She knew what you didn’t like or what your favorite possession was and used it to her own advantage… EVIL.

On days that were delightful she'd do something silly; like one day at a fancy buffet she told my mum, “bathroom” (her way of letting you know she has to go) and then she purposely walked behind her just to stick a finger in the chocolate fountain. Then there are the times we’d sit on the porch watching the sunset together with our backs pressed together; saying “pretty”.

I can honestly say if my sister was never born unique, I don’t think I’d be tolerable of other kids with special needs. She taught me how to accept all people and their abilities. Even as I reflect I learned more about people with disabilities, especially autism.

What I learned to understand about my sister’s severe autism is that she cannot vocally express what she wants, what she feels, or what hurts her. But she can see she is different from other people. She understands her surroundings and the conversations that take place around her.

You try living in a world where you cannot express yourself vocally to others. How do you think? What words would you think if none are known? What if screaming was the only way to let out every feeling you ever felt? It’s impossible to even comprehend or find an answer to these questions. She is like everyone else but much more mysterious. People can tell you what they’re thinking but she cannot.

Although she cannot vocally tell us what she feels, she learned to adapt to her capabilities. She learned to show affection by playing with your forehead and knees where she leaves little kisses and hugs.

Children with severe autism are something unique. Although they aren’t able to vocally communicate, they are able to develop a personality, show that they do understand, and pay attention to their surroundings (even when we don’t think they are listening), and convey their feelings and emotions. It’s pretty amazing how you can love and learn so much about someone without ever having a conversation with them. Actions do speak louder than words.

"What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."- Ralph Waldo Emerson