My dad was always a quiet man, even when mom was around I don’t remember him ever being a big part of my life. I guess this was only worsened when mom left, I was around 9 at the time and although the police did write up a missing persons file the fact that she left a note saying she was leaving forever made it a pretty open and shut case. I used to stay up all night waiting for her to come back but as I got older it became apparent she was gone.
One good thing came out of mom leaving and that was dads writing took off, he went from a nobody of a writer to getting intervews and movie adaptations seemingly overnight. This didn’t make him any more interested in me though in fact it kept him in his office for longer. He wrote fiction specifically horror, the reason people loved him so much is because he could make everything feel so real, when asked how he does it he would respond with the same thing every time “write what you know”.
I grew up taking care of myself, dad was never overly negligent, I got fed and went to school and all my needs were met, I can’t even say my wants weren’t met either because if I asked for anything I got it, but I can’t remember ever having a full conversation with him. Sure we could talk but it was mostly “Joshua have you done your homework”, “Joshua I’m going out”, “Joshua I’m very disappointed in your grades”, always talking at me and never talking with me.
I had a ‘such is life’ outlook on it until I met my now boyfriend, David; he helped me through alot and taught me that my emotions are worth caring about, without him I would have never found out what I have today. I went to visit my dad for his birthday and brought David along, he had a party sort of thing with many family members, some of which loved David and others who walked away uncomfortably from us after finding out, although funny my weirdly homophobic family members are not the reason I’m writing this.
My dad stood up and made a toast announcing that with the publication of his next book he would be retiring, everyone seemed taken aback by this so he went on “I have always gone by the moto write what you know, but with this book there will be nothing I know left.” Everybody laughed and things went on and he finished the night giving everyone a copy of his new book.
When I looked at the cover a chill went down my spine, in the background there was us. An old family photo from when mom was alive, I was sitting in a chair while mom was behind me with her hand on my shoulder and dad stood next to her, but where our faces should have been there were hibiscus flowers, while expressive art is cool this was unsettling it wasn’t helped by the fact that the flower as moms head was dead and drooping. Below the photo, in silver letters, the words “All That I Know” were written. Just the cover of this book made me feel sick, this wasn’t just a random stock photo of a family this was us. A photo that I have seen many times, it brought a feeling of comfort but also a feeling of dread, I wanted to cry but no tears would come out I just stared.
My focus was broken by David
“so.. are you gonna like… read it?”
I was plunged back into the real world where I found myself back at home, in bed.
“Uhhhh-“
I tried to gather my thoughts looking around the room to figure out how I got here.
“Are you ok babe? You’ve been staring at that cover the entire way home, you couldn’t even talk to me.”
David seemed concerned and for a good reason, this book had taken me in and I haven’t even been reading it,
“sorry honey it’s just that this cover it’s…”
I tried to explain what was going through my head but the truth is not even I knew.
“It is kinda weird, like isn’t that the photo hanging by the front door?”
It felt good that I wasn’t the only person who didn’t like it but I could tell it didn’t invoke the same emotions in him.
“Yeah..”
I said softly getting into bed still trying to figure out my own feelings to this,
“how about you read it? Maybe it’ll make sense then”
David was right but something about reading it gave me an uneasy feeling, nevertheless I opened it and started reading.
The first page read “All That I Know. An autobiography by Samuel Kopps” the fact that it is an autobiography made me both more curious to read and more terrified. I could finally know everything about my cold father that I had wished to know from the beginning but knowing more can be both a blessing and a curse, I can’t deny sometimes it’s easier to be ignorant. Despite this I read on, the first chapter outlined is upbringing it was quite scarse with details you could tell that it wasn’t what he wanted to write about. The next chapter was about meeting my mother, he detailed everything about her, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her eyes glistened in the sun, as I read I felt tears in my eyes, though I can’t remember her clearly I could tell how much he loved her from the way he wrote, this beauty was cut from the memory of my mother leaving. Chapter 3-4 was all about them together, the adventures they went on and the discussions they had finally ending with them deciding to have a baby. As you can guess chapter 5 was all about me being brought into this world, he wrote about my first word being “Dada”, And how he was always scared to connect with me. I was so emotional reading all of this, the cold man I had never had a conversation with outlined all of his love for me, his regret of never being around more, the day I came out to him, which is a day I don’t have the most fond memories of he wrote,
“As Joshua stood there with his head looking straight at the ground I wondered what was so important he had to interrupt my writing time, “dad.. “ He said with a tremble “I’m dating someone” He clentched his fists and turned his head. “Very well Joshua, erm who’s the girl?” We rarely had conversations which I must take the blame for, so him telling me this felt out of place. “That’s the thing dad” I raised an eyebrow as Joshua spoke, “Its not a girl” I was confused as I had not been exposed to homosexuality very much, of course I was aware they existed but it was never in my personal bubble. “It’s a boy..” Joshua said after a long pause (this could’ve been for dramatic effect though I believe he just couldn’t breathe) “Oh.” Is all I could mutter, I wanted to hug him, tell him I supported him do anything that showed it was ok! But alas I couldn’t I just slowly turned around and went back to writing. That very night I bashed my head into the wall until it bled as I heard him crying, I was a pathetic father.”
At this point I was bawling, I wanted to call him to say I loved him so I placed down the book and picked up my phone, “ 1:25am” I didn’t care what the time was I just went for the call. To my surprise he picked up. “Joshua?” His voice was croaky but it was the middle of the night. “Dad I’ve been reading your book.” I said between sobs, “Oh.” I didn’t care if his response was short I knew what I wanted to say. “Dad I love you so so much I’ve never hated you.” It felt like a weight was lifted as I said this, “Joshua.. where are you up to?” Dad said, his voice was a little shaky. “I just finished chapter 5” “Oh. Joshua I love you too but.. please read the rest before making conclusions.” Dad sighed, “Making conclusions? What do you-“ “Joshua please. I love you just please” His voice seemed to break. “Dad are you-“ I was cut off by him hanging up, what did he mean? Why was he acting so weird? There was only one way to find out and that was to read.
The sick feeling came back as I saw the title for chapter 6, “Write what you know” It started off with him talking about my mother again but this time it was different. He talked about how she was always his writing inspiration, how she just seemed like the perfect main character in any novel, but he then started talking about how his books got repetitive because of this, how writing what he knew became a block, so he needed better inspiration. He had read the works of people like Stephen King, how they became famous because they could transport you into the world of a killer. He then writes, “The best way to know the world of something is to live in that world.” Reading that sentence almost made me throw up. Writing what he knew wasn’t about his emotions or his own battles. He knew how to kill.
My mother never ran away, she was murdered. The man that murdered her then wrote a book about his life, he then took a part of that book to outline exactly how he did it, every noise her body made as a knife was plunged into it, the way she looked as dirt slowly covered her lifeless body, the way her blood glistened as he cleaned it and the way he covered it all up. The horror of reading this made me pass out.
David woke me up tears falling from his face, as I sat up I saw vomit everywhere, David was trying to talk to me but I couldn’t hear anything the ringing in my ears was unbearable. The police came into our room and tried to talk but nothing could get through to me. I looked over at the book, drenched in vomit open on those horrific pages, I guess the police saw this as they quickly understood why I wasn’t responding, they took David out of the room and told him what was happening.
The next 3 days feel like a blur but what basically happened was; as my other family members read it they called the police, when the police went to question my the man he was found in his office.. hanging. They followed where the book said my mother was buried and found her body solidifying the man who killed my mothers confession. A week or so later we properly put her to rest. As for me, I’m getting help, the man who killed my mother is dead so I can’t really be angry. I regret that call but it’s what I did. You know the saying “ignorance is bliss.” Please listen to it because the more you know about someone the more you have to hate about them.