I promised my mom I would kill my sister [Part 3]

This is part three of my story. You can find part one and two below
I promised my mom I would kill my sister [Part 1]
I promised my mom I would kill my sister [Part 2]
I realized after re-reading what I posted, I never really told you about Tulip. The real Tulip. My mom used to say that she marched to the beat of her own drummer. Tulip didn?t just march to her own drummer, she wasn?t even in the same parade as us.
Tulip is seventeen right now. She doesn?t speak, she doesn?t really make any sort of verbal noise. Even her laugh is quiet. Boisterous, but still quiet. It?s hard to find words to describe her because she?s like no one I?ve ever met or seen or read about.
Let me try this way.
All of the following things are true.

• Tulip will only wear green shoes.
• Tulip is either with you or within herself. She is on or off, there is no middle.
• Tulip will go through the entire bag of Doritos to find the one with the most cheese and give it to you, then walk away leaving the chip mess on the kitchen counter. Also true for the best cookie, the best slice of pizza, and the best piece of birthday cake.
• On my 13th birthday, she wrapped up her two favorite picture books, the ones she read every night, and gave them to me. She was trying to give me the happiness that the books had given to her.

If she had something and she thought it would give you any sort of happiness she couldn?t get it to you fast enough.
She never did talk. That is not to say she didn?t speak. My mother took the doctor?s theory that Tulip was lashing out because she was verbally frustrated very seriously.
Tulip?s ?voice? began as a set of picture cards taped to the refrigerator door. Simple words. There was one for everyone in the family. It also included other words like tired, apple, bathtime, hungry, words like that. It worked, for the most part. But every system my parents tried had a fatal flaw. They couldn?t hold Tulip?s interest.
Things that ?lost Tulip?s interest? fell off the Earth. That was a bigger problem than her developmental delay. She would get lost in what she was doing that she forget to eat if no one came and made her. She wasn?t toilet trained until she was nine. Not because she couldn?t manage, but because these disengaged periods would keep her from realizing she had to go.
That began to change when my parents got Tulip her first tablet. She was very into it. I think it helped that she was a little bit older. I know my parents hoped it would help her begin to learn letters and spelling but it never interested her.
Tulip?s talking app had stock pictures and let us add custom pictures as well. Tulip could either press the picture buttons and have the digital voice say the word, or she could put the pictures in a line to form a sentence, then hit ?speak.? We tried so hard to get her to use the latter but she seemed to love making the tablet talk ?on the fly? That?s what we used to call it.
As she got older, my parents tried expanding her tablet?s vocabulary, but it quickly became clear she wasn?t interested. So in her own manner, Tulip had a voice.
But back to what happened after that Christmas.
My father created the first iteration of Tulip?s room. Some of it I noticed then, some of it I didn?t find out until later, usually when I was helping dad make improvements. Imagine those conversations.
?Dad, is this steel sheeting under the drywall??
?Dad, are those motion sensors??
?Dad, where did Tulip?s window go??
What I did NOT know then was what prompted most of the improvements. Dad had reinforced the wall that attached to the house and added a much stronger door and doorframe. Apparently she?d nearly knocked it off its hinges at Christmas. It wouldn?t be the last time.
Dad had also added some sophisticated surveillance system equipment over the years. Including the system I use to monitor Tulip?s room currently. Her room is locked and bolted at night. I can unlock it manually or remotely. The motion sensors are there to give us a heads up. A few extra minutes can make all the difference.
I was there for the incident that prompted the removal of Tulip?s window, actually.
I had just turned 14. Life with Tulip had leveled out. She still had episodes, but we?d gotten fairly adept at monitoring her. And we had The Rules.
In the beginning, the rules were just general guidelines, but the more we learned the more they turned into a mantra. Protocol, I guess.
But I?m getting ahead of myself.
When I was just 14, late spring I think, I woke up to my dad flinging my bedroom door open, flipping on the light, and desperately scanning the room.
?What?s wrong?? I asked.
?Tulip! I can?t find her. She?s not in her room.? My dad turned and flew back out of my room. I jumped out of bed, trying to pull my hoodie over my head and put my shoes on at the same time. Dad was moving through the house, flipping on lights and calling her name.
I looked into Tulip?s room and my heart sank. At the bottom of the window, I could see the edge of Tulip?s curtains tucked between the window and the sill. Like it had gotten caught there by a closing window. As I ran over, something loud and unnatural spoke. A woman?s voice. A digital woman.
Brian. Brian. Brain. I. see. you. Brian.
I turned to see Tulip?s iPad laying on her empty bed. It was open to her speaking app. I felt my skin crawl up the back of my scalp as I shuddered. No one but me was in the room.
I turned around and looked out the window. Looking down, there was definitely a Tulip-shaped shadow in the neighbor?s backyard by the swingset. It was staring in my direction. Then, as I watched it started running.
?DAD!? I yelled. ?She?s in the backyard!?
I heard him tear off in that direction. Tulip was at the tall wooden fence that bordered all three sides of our large backyard. We lived in a pretty typical suburbia. Our yard was backed up against some farm houses and fields. It was getting darker. I watched in horror as the shadow that could only be Tulip came to the fence and was at the top in an instant. She crept low and fast, leaping from one side of the corner to the next, crawling more like an insect than a person. I watched in horror as she spotted one of the neighbors out in the middle of the field behind our yard.
Tulip leapt off the fence and I watched helplessly as she skittered toward him, then stopped, suddenly and crouched low. I could barely see her in the darkness when flames appeared throwing light on the farmer and on Tulip who was at the edge of the fire the farmer had lit. She was slowly standing up, staring into the growing bonfire. She was still standing there, staring, when my father made it through the gate and into the farmer?s field, my mother and I on his heels.
The farmer had walked over to where she stood and was trying to start up a conversation.
?Yer daughter?s a quiet one,? he said, giving me a wink.
?Yes, she doesn?t talk much,? my father said, putting one arm tentatively on her shoulder. She didn?t move.
?She sleepwalks,? My mother said quietly. ?The fire must have caught her eye.?
Tulip stared at the fire. I tried to be discreet, and failed. I had to see her eyes. They were big black pupils that engulfed her irises. Not completely black. I think I might have preferred that. My mom and dad looked at each other. Dad pulled a bit harder on Tulip?s arm.
?C?mon sweetie.? My mom said brightly.
Tulip?s head flipped around and pierced my her with a savage look that made me want to throw up. My father started fumbling in his pockets and produced a white bic lighter. As he brought it up a pack of cigarettes fell out onto the ground.
?I thought you quit!? my mom hissed sharply, which I thought was hilarious. Dad shrugged and gave her a pleading look. He flicked the lighter. Tulip cocked her head and considered it. The tension in her arms relaxed and they were able to lead her into the house. God knows what that farmer must have thought. They were able to get her inside, that was all that mattered. Mom started a fire in the fireplace while my dad nailed Tulip?s window shut. She was staring at the fire. We were staring at her.
Once the window was secure, they led Tulip into her room and closed and bolted the door. My father put his lighter back in his pocket. My mother stood in the living room and watched the door, nervously. We waited, holding our breath, then slowly let it out. We had done it. We had diffused the Black-eye?d Tulip.
There was suddenly a horrific CRACK and we turned and found Tulip?s door had been smashed half out of the frame. ?Brian!? my father shouted and I ran over to help him hold the door closed.
?I should call 911!? My mother shouted in a pleading voice.
?NO! My father hissed viciously. ?You know what they?ll do to her.? He said, his voice softening, seeing the dispair on her face.
Boom . . . boom . . . boom! The door shook. My mom went to the video baby monitor.
?What?s she doing?? I asked.
?She?s just running at. Over and over. My god, she?s going to kill herself!? My mother began to sob and ran half way across the room toward the door until stopped. She sank to her knees, defeated. That?s how the next few hours. Not talking to each other, sitting in the silence in between the violent collisions with the door. It was at least two hours before Tulip quieted and the video confirmed she had gone to sleep.
Fire never worked as well as it did that night, but whatever was inside Tulip was distracted by firelight for some reason. It stopped being mesmerizing it, but it was still enough to distract it long enough to gain the advantage.
That?s how Tulip?s window got replaced. And that?s when we started the rules.
The Rules

1. Never turn your back to Tulip
2. Make eye contact frequently. [At least once per hour, unless sleeping.]
3. Knives and Tools - If it?s not in your hand, it?s in the safe.
4. Have a lighter on your person at all times.
5. Notice something strange, tell the others.
6. Never, ever assume.
7. See Rule #1

After that my dad further reinforced her door and had her window completely removed.
It didn?t occur to early on, but my dad was building a prison. Or at least solitary confinement. He was always one to see the big picture. He was excellent at strategies and systems. He knew what was coming long before my mother did. And it weighed on him.
I need to get some sleep soon. I?ve never watched Tulip solo before so I need to sleep when she does. I won?t lie. I missed her.
And I know I?ve promised a lot of you that I would talk about my parents. I?ll do it in the next post, I promise.
Anyway, thanks for listening.
-Brian


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