My brother is a year and a half older than me and has Asperger's. For those of you who may not know, it is a social form of autism. This generally means that he has a tendency to say ridiculously inappropriate things and not care about or understand the effects his words may have on anyone else. He also focuses only on his interests and will talk about them nonstop regardless of whether of not anyone understands or is interested in what he is talking about. As a child, it also caused him to say incredibly creepy things to me. He never said things with the purpose of scaring me, like most older brothers would, but rather, simply relayed things to me that he believed to be true. When I was 7 or 8, we were playing a video game together. Without even looking up from the screen, he said, "You know, when we're sleeping we can't control what we do. I could sleepwalk and get a knife and kill you and I wouldn't even know." When I told my mother what he'd said, she went to him and said he can't say things like that to his little sister because it scares me. His response was, "Why? It's true. She should know." I locked my door from then on. The creepiest thing he ever said still haunts me to this day. I was six or seven and our rooms were connected by a shared bathroom. We always kept the doors open, so we could see into each other's rooms. One day, while we were playing together, he mentioned how he saw his copy last night. I asked him what he meant, and he said that he frequently wakes up at night and sees a copy of himself standing beside his bed watching him sleep. I was freaked out and asked him what his copy looked like when it watched him. He jumped up and said, "I'll show you." He stood in front of me and stared blankly at me with no emotion on his face. I told him to stop and that he was scaring me. He said he didn't see why that would scare me since I've seen it before. I asked him what he meant by that and he said, "Sometimes, when I see my copy watching me, I look into your room and see yours watching you too." Even now, almost 20 years later, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with a feeling of being watched. I keep my eyes closed or put my head under the blanket until the feeling passes, because I'm afraid to open my eyes, terrified that I will see a copy of myself blankly staring at me.