What You Know Is True
Chapter 12
February 23, 2006
I have 2 little brothers named Louie and Dallas. They’re ten and twelve. I know it’s not right to pick favorites when it comes to family, but Dallas is my favorite.
I remember I was five-years-old when he was born and my mom let me hold him. He had the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen in a baby, and I can remember saying something like, “I’m gonna be the best sister ever.” I was gonna help my parents take care of him. I would teach him stuff so by the time he was old enough to go to school, he’d be the smartest kid in class already. I would help him and always been there for him. I was really proud to be a sister.
We always got along. He really is sweet and he’s helpful when he wants to be. I had a lot of anxiety growing up, and I still do, but it was worse when I was young. When I was 10 I had a nervous breakdown during school and my dad had to come get me. I told Dallas later what happened and he gave me a drawing and said “If you ever feel sad just look at this.” There were two people on it and he said it was me and him at a carnival.
When it was time to go to sleep I cried because I couldn’t believe he did that for me after what I did to him just the other night.
We were watching TV and he had fallen asleep. I don’t remember too much what happened. I saw something on TV and I wanted to know . . .
But he woke up. I told him I was checking for something and to not tell anyone because it was a secret. He listened to me. He thought it was okay. I felt it was okay, because wasn’t it okay to be curious?
That was the first time I touched him and I didn’t try again till months later.
March 2nd, 2006
I think I should get an award for getting out of bed when all I want is to just lie here and rot. I should get an award for maintaining good grades when I barely care anymore. I turn in things last minute. Sometimes I convince my friends or a classmate to do the assignment for me.
My mind feels twisted. I am.
In three days it’ll be Louie’s birthday. He’s turning ten. I’ve noticed he likes art a lot like Dallas does, so I got him this thick sketchbook and a bunch of watercolor paint and color pencils. Not the cheap kinds. I trust him enough to take care of the expensive ones.
The difference between him and Dallas is Louie still looks so little and he acts like it. He still has his innocence. When I think about it I get so jealous. I almost start to resent him for it. Dallas is the opposite. I have to remind myself he’s only twelve.
You should be proud of me. I haven’t done anything to him since his birthday back in December. I’ve been too scared to. I think Louie might’ve seen something, but he hasn’t told me or anyone. He doesn’t act he has, so I probably imagined it. Nothing’s happened since then.
Dallas told me Louie said he didn’t like him and that I liked Dallas more than him. That’s not true. I love Louie. Just not the same way as Dallas. We’re not in tuned like him and me are. I don’t know. We’re just closer, I guess.
Sometimes I wish we weren’t related till I realize what I should be saying is, “I wish I wasn’t like this.”
I wish I wasn’t a liar, manipulative, a horrible person, disgusting.
But I keep being those things.
March 25th, 2006
I’m sorry.
I caved. I gave in.
I threatened Dallas. He looks sick. Mom asked what was wrong and he told her it was nothing.
It’s nothing.
The difference between me and them is I see the ending coming before they do. That means I have to stop, stop before it all blows up.
x x x x
September 12th, 2006
Sometimes I think back to how I used to be compared to now. And all I feel is sorrow for the old Josee. She didn’t care about anyone. She didn’t care that her Sickness was wrong because it was right in her eyes and no one could understand. She did it out of love. No one could love Dallas like she did. She got up from anything. She didn’t want to stay in bed all day and wish tomorrow would never come. People liked her. She was the star of her swim team. Her parents were proud of her. She had a bright future despite everything.
I can barely eat anything now. I’m getting sloppy. I left bruises on Dallas and mom asked where they were from and he lied because I told him what I’d do if he didn’t. My friends never want to hang out with me anymore and even LaShay and Ariana said they didn’t really like me anymore. Coach Dolenz is threatening to kick me off the team. Now I’m waiting for my parents to say they’re disowning me.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through all this.
I need to do something. I need to stop everything.
October 20th, 2006
I took Dallas and Louie to the art museum. We go there a lot when there’s nothing else to do. The boys had fun and I actually felt happy for a moment. It came out of nowhere while we were in one of the exhibits, and I just started crying. I couldn’t help it. I told the boys I was okay. Don’t worry about me.
They won’t ever have to worry about me ever again.
Dallas will be safe from me for once.
This is my last entry to you. In two days I’ll be gone forever.
x x x x
I threw the journal at the wall, narrowly missing the window. I wished it would’ve gone through.
You know how you work so hard to forget something bad or embarrassing that’s happened to you, and when it works it seems like the situation never happened or that it wasn’t as drastic as you thought it was. It’s gone from memory until someone brings it back, and it’s nothing but intense emotions as you try not to think about it.
I ended up puking on the floor, not even making it to the trashcan.
Five years was a long time to ignore something, to almost forget it. The image I had of Josee was shattered and I could only stare at the truth now. Everything replayed in my head – all the times we were alone, when she bribed me or yelled at me only to tell me later I was the best brother there was and that she supposedly loved me. A sudden coldness ran through my veins as I stared at her journal.
There was a page sticking out and I pulled it out. It was slightly torn in places and had creases everywhere, like it had been folded several times. It wasn’t dated, but it had my name on it. I held my breath as I read it.
Dallas,
I don’t know why I’m writing this because I don’t plan on giving it to you. But I feel like I need to.
I rewrote this a 100 times and yet it still isn’t coming out right.
I want you to be mad at me. I want you to hate me. Because I deserve it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I deserve nothing for what I’ve done to you.
I’m so sorry. I used to tell myself I did those things because I loved you so much and you were so great. I just wanted you to myself. Then I realized, isn’t that what they all say while they’re hurting someone? I’m not a little kid anymore. I know better but I don’t act like it.
I’m so sorry, Dallas. I’m making up for it now. I won’t ever hurt you or anyone again. I’m going to fix this.
Everything’s going to be okay, and this time I mean it.
I love you. Take care of Louie.
- Josee.
I have 2 little brothers named Louie and Dallas. They’re ten and twelve. I know it’s not right to pick favorites when it comes to family, but Dallas is my favorite.
I remember I was five-years-old when he was born and my mom let me hold him. He had the biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen in a baby, and I can remember saying something like, “I’m gonna be the best sister ever.” I was gonna help my parents take care of him. I would teach him stuff so by the time he was old enough to go to school, he’d be the smartest kid in class already. I would help him and always been there for him. I was really proud to be a sister.
We always got along. He really is sweet and he’s helpful when he wants to be. I had a lot of anxiety growing up, and I still do, but it was worse when I was young. When I was 10 I had a nervous breakdown during school and my dad had to come get me. I told Dallas later what happened and he gave me a drawing and said “If you ever feel sad just look at this.” There were two people on it and he said it was me and him at a carnival.
When it was time to go to sleep I cried because I couldn’t believe he did that for me after what I did to him just the other night.
We were watching TV and he had fallen asleep. I don’t remember too much what happened. I saw something on TV and I wanted to know . . .
But he woke up. I told him I was checking for something and to not tell anyone because it was a secret. He listened to me. He thought it was okay. I felt it was okay, because wasn’t it okay to be curious?
That was the first time I touched him and I didn’t try again till months later.
March 2nd, 2006
I think I should get an award for getting out of bed when all I want is to just lie here and rot. I should get an award for maintaining good grades when I barely care anymore. I turn in things last minute. Sometimes I convince my friends or a classmate to do the assignment for me.
My mind feels twisted. I am.
In three days it’ll be Louie’s birthday. He’s turning ten. I’ve noticed he likes art a lot like Dallas does, so I got him this thick sketchbook and a bunch of watercolor paint and color pencils. Not the cheap kinds. I trust him enough to take care of the expensive ones.
The difference between him and Dallas is Louie still looks so little and he acts like it. He still has his innocence. When I think about it I get so jealous. I almost start to resent him for it. Dallas is the opposite. I have to remind myself he’s only twelve.
You should be proud of me. I haven’t done anything to him since his birthday back in December. I’ve been too scared to. I think Louie might’ve seen something, but he hasn’t told me or anyone. He doesn’t act he has, so I probably imagined it. Nothing’s happened since then.
Dallas told me Louie said he didn’t like him and that I liked Dallas more than him. That’s not true. I love Louie. Just not the same way as Dallas. We’re not in tuned like him and me are. I don’t know. We’re just closer, I guess.
Sometimes I wish we weren’t related till I realize what I should be saying is, “I wish I wasn’t like this.”
I wish I wasn’t a liar, manipulative, a horrible person, disgusting.
But I keep being those things.
March 25th, 2006
I’m sorry.
I caved. I gave in.
I threatened Dallas. He looks sick. Mom asked what was wrong and he told her it was nothing.
It’s nothing.
The difference between me and them is I see the ending coming before they do. That means I have to stop, stop before it all blows up.
x x x x
September 12th, 2006
Sometimes I think back to how I used to be compared to now. And all I feel is sorrow for the old Josee. She didn’t care about anyone. She didn’t care that her Sickness was wrong because it was right in her eyes and no one could understand. She did it out of love. No one could love Dallas like she did. She got up from anything. She didn’t want to stay in bed all day and wish tomorrow would never come. People liked her. She was the star of her swim team. Her parents were proud of her. She had a bright future despite everything.
I can barely eat anything now. I’m getting sloppy. I left bruises on Dallas and mom asked where they were from and he lied because I told him what I’d do if he didn’t. My friends never want to hang out with me anymore and even LaShay and Ariana said they didn’t really like me anymore. Coach Dolenz is threatening to kick me off the team. Now I’m waiting for my parents to say they’re disowning me.
I don’t know how I’m going to get through all this.
I need to do something. I need to stop everything.
October 20th, 2006
I took Dallas and Louie to the art museum. We go there a lot when there’s nothing else to do. The boys had fun and I actually felt happy for a moment. It came out of nowhere while we were in one of the exhibits, and I just started crying. I couldn’t help it. I told the boys I was okay. Don’t worry about me.
They won’t ever have to worry about me ever again.
Dallas will be safe from me for once.
This is my last entry to you. In two days I’ll be gone forever.
x x x x
I threw the journal at the wall, narrowly missing the window. I wished it would’ve gone through.
You know how you work so hard to forget something bad or embarrassing that’s happened to you, and when it works it seems like the situation never happened or that it wasn’t as drastic as you thought it was. It’s gone from memory until someone brings it back, and it’s nothing but intense emotions as you try not to think about it.
I ended up puking on the floor, not even making it to the trashcan.
Five years was a long time to ignore something, to almost forget it. The image I had of Josee was shattered and I could only stare at the truth now. Everything replayed in my head – all the times we were alone, when she bribed me or yelled at me only to tell me later I was the best brother there was and that she supposedly loved me. A sudden coldness ran through my veins as I stared at her journal.
There was a page sticking out and I pulled it out. It was slightly torn in places and had creases everywhere, like it had been folded several times. It wasn’t dated, but it had my name on it. I held my breath as I read it.
Dallas,
I don’t know why I’m writing this because I don’t plan on giving it to you. But I feel like I need to.
I rewrote this a 100 times and yet it still isn’t coming out right.
I want you to be mad at me. I want you to hate me. Because I deserve it. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I deserve nothing for what I’ve done to you.
I’m so sorry. I used to tell myself I did those things because I loved you so much and you were so great. I just wanted you to myself. Then I realized, isn’t that what they all say while they’re hurting someone? I’m not a little kid anymore. I know better but I don’t act like it.
I’m so sorry, Dallas. I’m making up for it now. I won’t ever hurt you or anyone again. I’m going to fix this.
Everything’s going to be okay, and this time I mean it.
I love you. Take care of Louie.
- Josee.