Dear Kyle,
things have never been this bad.
I finally asked Chris about Josie, and now I'm sure wishing I hadn't.
It's brought a whole new set of memories back to my mind. They had been so suppressed if you hadn't brought it up, I would've forgotten completely.
You see Kyle I had a twin sister.
"Who's Josie?"
"Let me look at your file." Chris than scanned through the rather large folder before pulling out a photo. In it was my mother holding two almost identical looking babies. On the back was handwriting that said;
Daniel and Josie's first Christmas.
"Oh my god." I couldn't even think straight as I was hit by a memory.
It was a week from me and Josie's fifth birthday and we had just gotten home from the grocery store. Mom was inside still unpacking the groceries while me and Josie played grown ups.
"Come on Danny we have to go to work. You be the driver!" That was the beginning of the end.
I remember climbing into the car, the keys still in ignition.
"I have to get my bear." She said and climbed out from the car to the trunk.
I didn't pay her any attention as I sat in the front seat, pretending to race the car. But somehow the shift must've been put in reverse because the next thing I knew she was crying out.
"Danny stop!" She yelled but it was too late.
The car had already crushed her.
I can still hear her screaming and the sound of cracking bones in my head.
Kyle I killed my own sister. I fucking ran her over and didn't stop.
It all makes sense now. Why mom left and why dad hated me. I would hate me too.
I remember having the funeral and my parents not telling anyone it was me. They all said that it had been a freak accident and that there was nothing they could've done to prevent it.
It's funny though because my mom didn't want to say it was a freak accident. Where as my father wanted to protect me, so that I wouldn't grow up with all the guilt on my shoulders.
And that's why four days after her death mom went on "vacation."
Kyle the death of two thirds of my family is my fault.
I told Chris about it. And even him, someone who deals with people like me all day was speechless.
He kept me in his office two hours longer, but there was no therapy. It was just me crying the whole time and him trying desperately to get me to stop.
Fuck in sick of all this.
Love,
Danny
