Shattered Stars

by Shari Ryan

  “Dani, you need to relax,” he says. “Let me help.”

  “What?” I question. He’s not making any sense. “No, Layne. No. You’re not making any sense right now. You’ve been trying to help me get better all this time, and now you want to give up on me? Is it because I didn’t get better fast enough? I can try harder. I’ll go to more therapy appointments if you want. I’ll tattoo your name on my damn hand, so I don’t forget it again. I’m sorry, Layne. I’m sorry. Don’t send me away. Please. I love you. I love you, just let me stay here,” I plead.

  His lips don’t move or quiver as I beg for him to let me stay home. He’s staring through me as if I’m glass, and it hurts so much. It hurts. How did he flip a switch like that? I thought he loved me.

  “Shh, just rest,” Layne says. “It will be okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” I continue crying. “Please, don’t do this.”

  “They’re here,” Aly says, releasing the curtain from her hand. She walks over to the door and unlocks the latch. How could the latch be locked?

  “No, no! I’m not leaving. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to go, Layne. Don’t make me go, please. I’ll get better. I’ll try to get better. I promise.”

  “Dan, we have to do this. It’s for your own good. You know we love you.” How is this love? He’s getting rid of me, for my own good. I don’t want this though, so this isn’t for me. It’s for them.

  Paramedics walk through the door with a stretcher. “I can walk. I don’t need to be carried out of the house.”

  “Ma’am, we need you to take a deep breath and try to relax,” one paramedic says.

  “But, I don’t need to go with you. I’m okay. See? They’re just worried about me. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “Ma’am, who are you talking about?” the paramedic asks.

  “My husband and daughter. They’re the ones who called you.” I prop myself up onto my elbows, looking around the room for Layne and Aly but I don’t see them. Did they leave?

  “Okay, Ma’am. Take a deep breath.”

  “No, you don’t understand what’s happening. I don’t understand what’s happening. Stop this. I don’t want to go anywhere!”

  “Let’s sedate her,” the paramedic says. “She will not comply.”

  “No. I’m not in agreement with this. I don’t need to be taken away or to the hospital. I demand you stop and leave my house. You are intruding. I did not call you or ask you to come into my house.”

  A needle pricks into my arm, and without thought, I try to swing my body away, but it feels like a lead weight I can’t move. I need to fight back. They’re attacking me. “Stop hurting me,” I shout through gasps of air.

  My body turns numb and weightless as straps tighten over my chest, pinning me to a board. How did they get me onto this thing? I didn’t move?

  We’re moving, but I’m not walking. I’m horizontal and someone is carrying me toward our front door, where I see Layne and Aly, holding each other, crying. If this hurts you so bad why are you doing this? I want to ask them, but words don’t come to me. I’m being taken away from my family, and for what? Because they’re done with me now?

  The need to scream is fierce, but my eyes close through an overwhelming heaviness, bringing me back to the black hole I spend so much time avoiding. Is this where I’m meant to be? In the dark?

  Twenty-Three

  Twelve Years Ago

  I WAS 18 YEARS OLD

  My cell phone buzzes on my nightstand, startling me awake. In a frenzy, I turn over in bed, reaching for the lamp switch in the dark. I feel around for a moment before my fingers make contact with the switch. My eyes burn against the glow of the light, and I reach for my phone. The display shows one new message from Layne. I don’t even know what time it is, but I feel like I’ve been asleep for hours. With a shaky hand, I flip open my phone to read the message.

  Layne: Dani, I need you.

  My gaze adjusts and searches for the time on my phone. It’s one in the morning. My heart sinks as my fingers move on their own as I respond to Layne.

  Me: Are you okay?

  A minute passes before a response pops up on my display.

  Layne: No. I’m outside. Can you come out?

  Outside?

  Me: My house?

  Layne: Yes.

  Layne has never done this, or woken me in the middle of the night. He would never chance waking Aly up in the middle of the night after the number of times he’s sat with me, patiently waiting for her to fall asleep so we can hang out like normal eighteen/nineteen-year-olds. I grab my sweatshirt that’s hanging from the knob of my bedroom door and slip it over my head as I jog down the steps as quietly as I can. The red light shining off the house alarm reminds me it’s on and I’m not sure how I can disarm it without waking Mom and Aly up, but I have to get outside. I place my hand on the speaker part of the alarm, trying to suffocate all sounds, and press the four-digit code into the keypad. The beep is much softer than it would be if I wasn’t covering it and I hope no one heard. There is still silence in the house, so I should be in the clear. I open the door and slip out into the cool air, wearing shorts and my sweatshirt. I don’t even have shoes on my feet.

  “Layne?” I call.

  “I’m here,” he says, standing beside Mom’s car. It’s dark, and there isn’t a street light on our side, so it’s hard to see much.

  “What’s wrong?” I’m terrified to know. I can only hear heavy breaths as I make my way down the steps, closer to his shadowy figure. When I make it over to him, the street light from the next house down offers a little glow, enough for me to see his face covered in tears. “Layne.”

  “She’s gone, Dani.” Layne can barely speak. His voice is so hoarse.

  “Wait, no. I just saw her at dinner. She was fine.” I’m in shock.

  “Then … she wasn’t fine. Her heart stopped.”

  “No,” I cry. “No, it can’t be—” I realize I need to hold myself together for Layne, but my heart is pounding, and my mind is foggy. I wrench my arms around Layne’s torso and squeeze my body against his, resting my head on his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I feel like I’m alone now, Dani.” His words come out in a guttural cry, and the tears pour from my eyes. Hearing Layne, the guy who has been stronger than I could ever be in this horrible situation, is breaking down and crumbling.

  “You have me. You have me, Layne. Do you understand?” I pull away from him and reach for his shoulders. “Look at me.” He glances down, but his eyes are full with a film of tears. “I’m here.”

  “It hurts so much, Dani. I don’t know what to do. It hurts so damn much that I can’t breathe. It hurts to breathe.”

  “I know.” I don’t know. I haven’t lost anyone like that but having Dad walk out on me when I was ten didn’t feel much different from how I assume a death might feel. He’s gone, just the same. He just didn’t love me enough to stay.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he mutters.

  “Where is Lizzy?”

  “I called her, but it went right to voicemail. Her phone must be off for the night.”

  “Layne, where did this happen? Where is your mom right now?”

  “I called 9-1-1. They took her away. They said it would be a bit before I can see …”

  “Okay, we need to go to the hospital. Where’s your Jeep?”

  “I walked.”

  “You live two miles away, Layne.” Oh my God. He’s not thinking correctly. Not that I could expect him to right now. “Were you with her when …”

  “I was in the basement. I found her on the kitchen floor when I came up to get a bottle of water.”

  “Okay.”

  By the time we reach the stairs of my house, Mom is walking toward the front door, wrapping her robe tightly around her body. “Guys, what’s going—” She stops speaking abruptly when she likely spots Layne. Then she turns her focus to me, and I give her a look I know she’ll understand. She does. Mom places her
shivering hand over her mouth. She’s become friends with Sandra over the last few months and spent many afternoons with her. It was nice to see them form a bond, and I wish it could have lasted forever.

  Mom urges us into the house and wraps her arms around us. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she tells Layne. “When did this happen?”

  “Tw—two hours ago,” he says, choking on his words.

  “Is she at the hospital now?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” she offers.

  I don’t want Aly at the hospital. I shake my head, and I think Mom must realize at the same time that Aly is asleep upstairs. We’re all tired and not thinking straight right now. “Can you stay with Aly?” I ask her.

  “Of course, of course.”

  “Layne, sweetheart, I want you to come back here when you leave the hospital. Stay with Dani, okay? I’m going to help you with everything. Have you reached Lizzy or Marcy?”

  Layne shakes his head. “Her phone is off, and Marcy’s phone went to voicemail.”

  “Okay. I’m sure they’ll get back to you soon, sweetie.”

  Layne presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and takes a few quick, short breaths. “Thank you,” he whispers.

  “Please drive carefully and keep me updated.”

  I wrap an arm around Mom’s neck and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” I slip on my running shoes that are by the door and forget about my legs being cold. My shorts are running shorts so no one will think anything and I don’t want to leave Layne’s side long enough to change my clothes. I’ll be fine. He isn’t much better at the moment, anyway. He’s in baggy sweatpants and a black t-shirt with holes down the center.

  Layne doesn’t say a word on the way to the hospital, but I’m not questioning why. I can’t imagine how much is going through his head.

  It feels like we’re walking through a dark tunnel when we step out of the car. I know the parking garage has lights, but it doesn’t seem like they are working up to their capacity. The elevator in the garage smells like urine, and I don’t want to touch anything, so I press my sweatshirt over my hand and press the street-level button.

  Layne is staring through the elevator doors with a tired, dazed look in his eyes. I take his hand, weaving my fingers through his and tug him forward as the doors part.

  I do the talking when necessary and take the clipboard when asked to fill out information about Sandra. I answer the questions I know the answers to, then hand the clipboard to Layne when I need him to help.

  “Your phone is ringing,” I tell him as I take the clipboard back. Layne’s eyes are frozen, staring at the ground in front of us. “Layne. It could be Lizzy or Marcy.”

  He shakes his head around and reaches into his pocket for the phone and looks at the display before opening it. “Lizzy,” he says, trying to sound strong. “Yeah, no, no, nothing is okay. Mom—she.” Layne swallows the lump in his throat and rocks back and forth in his chair for a minute before standing up, straightening his shoulders and speaking. “Yeah, she’s gone, Liz.”

  I can hear Lizzy crying through the phone, and Layne loses it again so I take the phone from his hands. “Lizzy, it’s me, Dani. We’re at the hospital, filling out papers.”

  “Will you wait for me to get there?” she says in spurts of gasping breaths.

  “Of course. Call me when you get here.”

  “Thank you, Dani,” she says before disconnecting the call.

  I wrap my arm around Layne’s back and hold him as tightly as I can manage. “She’s on her way,” I whisper.

  “Are you Sandra Hensen’s family?” a nurse asks while approaching us.

  “Yes, this is her son, Layne. Her daughter is on her way down here now.”

  “Okay, a social worker will be with you soon. Is this paperwork completed?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” I tell her.

  “There is coffee and other beverages just around the corner if you need anything. I’ll be just over there at the nurse's station if I can be of any help too. I know this must be a difficult time for your family, and I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  I sniffle in response, nodding my head, so she knows I heard her and understand what she said. This is worse than I thought possible. I can’t do anything to ease Layne’s pain, and I want to take it away like he has tried so hard to take my pain away in the last six months we’ve known each other. He has given me everything he has to help me overcome my past demons, and I’m sitting here now, helpless and unsure of how I can do more than just hug him.

  It isn’t long before I see a mess of brunette hair flying around behind Lizzy’s head as she storms into the waiting area. Layne spots her immediately and stands from his seat, waiting to wrap his arms around his older sister who he towers over by a foot. He presses her head to his chest, and his arms wrap around her entirely. Neither of them speaks. They sob and hold each other. The sight is heartbreaking, and I can only hope that the two of them never have to feel this much pain again in their lifetime.

  Twenty-Four

  Current Day

  I feel restricted, held down, tired and unable to move. Everything around me is a blurry mess, and I want my family. I’ve been in a trance for what seems like hours now. I’m barely cognitive of what’s been going on around me, but there have been a lot of voices, and someone has mentioned my name several times, but I’m not sure what in reference to.

  I want my focus to clear up so I can figure out what’s happening.

  Finally, my senses come to, and I glance around, finding four walls enclosing me inside a room. Peach painted walls with white trim. A heart monitor with protruding wires lace around my body, and there’s an empty chair beside me. Memories of the last time I was in a hospital and hooked up to monitors makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs. “Help!”

  Why am I in here alone?

  Another minute passes before a nurse walks through the wooden door that’s apparently behind me. She doesn’t greet me before tugging on the sheet of paper printing from the heart monitor. “How are we doing?” she asks.

  “Where is my husband?”

  “We need to ask you a few questions before you’re able to have visitors, okay?”

  “No, I want my husband. Layne!” I shout, hoping he’s just outside and can hear me.

  * * *

  Layne sent you here.

  He just wants me to get better. He was trying to help.

  Layne is giving up on you.

  He wouldn’t do that to me.

  He just did.

  * * *

  “Please, could you get my husband?” I ask, asserting demand.

  “When you can calm down, I will see about finding your husband.”

  “How can you expect me to calm down when I don’t know why I’m here or where here is?”

  “Danielle, I need you to take a deep breath, in through your nose, and slowly, exhale through your mouth. I’ll do it with you, dear.”

  “No, I want my husband.”

  A doctor walks into the room from behind me. He’s dressed in black, tailored pants, and a white dress shirt, accompanied by a stethoscope and a thick pair of bottle-cap glasses that look like they’re from 1970. “Danielle, I’m Dr. Harry. I’m a clinical psychiatrist here at Mass General. I want to ask you a few questions if that’s all right?”

  “I want to see my husband,” I tell him.

  “I understand, and we’ll see about helping with that once you cooperate with us.”

  “I did nothing.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not true,” Dr. Harry says.

  A mess of confusion is all I feel. What in the world is he talking about? Is he confusing me with someone else? “I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything.”

  “I’ve been reading through your files, Mrs. Hensen, and it seems you have quite an intense history.”

  “Intense history?” I question. “I was attacked, mauled, raped, and impregnated. Is th
at what you mean?”

  Dr. Harry presses on the bottom of his glasses to push them up the bridge of his nose. “Well, yes.”

  “Okay, and? That was fourteen years ago. What does that have to do with me being in this room right now?”

  He takes the empty seat beside me and makes himself comfortable. Layne should be sitting in that seat. I don’t want to talk to this doctor. “It seems there is a big gap in the timeline of events since the occurrence. You were doing well until last year, around this time. Is this correct?”

  “Yes, then I was diagnosed with early onset Dementia, and my life went down the drain. How’s that for fun?”

  I realize my sarcasm won’t get me anything quicker here, but I’ve had it, and I’m sick of being spoken to like I’m ill. I’m being kept against my free will, and I want to go home.

  “Can you think of any significant moment that happened last year?”

  “Yes, I was diagnosed with a life-ending disease. Is that not significant enough?”

  “Very well,” Dr. Harry says. “You’re agitated, for a good reason, so I will let you be, and we can address the questions at a later time.”

  “I want to see my husband,” I mention again.

  “A nurse will try to locate him.” I find it hard to believe that Layne isn’t sitting right outside the door. He doesn’t leave me for too long, and whenever there are doctors involved, he’s never far away.

  I’ve been watching the clock because there isn’t much else I can do at the moment. Therefore, I know it’s been over an hour since I requested to see Layne, and yet I’m still sitting in here, mindlessly staring at a wall, while this nurse flips through a lifestyle magazine.

  When I hear the door open and close behind me, I want to jump out of bed and make a run for it, but I can’t move. I thought they only restrained people who are aggressive or unruly. That isn’t me.