Finding My Way Home

Chapter 23

Ethan

I have been in my car for three hours, and I am about to lose my fucking mind. It's early morning which makes it easier for me to see what is around me. I've driven in circles all night. I've been in constant contact with my father, but I have not heard from the police. I am about to drive through the area again when I see several police cars near Cranston Park. My blood runs cold, and I have the strangest feeling that something is terribly wrong. I call my father.

"Dad, where are you?"

"I'm near Pennypack Diner. What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure, but I have a bad feeling. I see several police cars near Cranston Park, by the playground. Can you come over here right away?"

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

I park my car, and as soon as I start walking across the grass, I see Diane's red sandals. Oh my, God, she's lying on the ground. Several police officers are standing around her, and off in the distance, I hear sirens. My legs refuse to move. I am paralyzed with fear. The police officer that I met earlier sees me and runs over to me.

"I think we found your wife. Come with me please."

I have never had an out of body experience in my life, but I can say with the utmost certainty, that I am having one now. My peripheral vision is blacked out, and I see white spots in my central vision. The tightness in my chest makes it impossible to breathe. Is this what it feels like when you die? The police officer is still holding my arm, and he is dragging me towards my wife. He is rather forceful in his movement, and the sudden jerking of my body clears my vision. When I look down, my beautiful wife's battered body is all that I can see.

"Oh my God, Diane! What has happened to her?" I fall to my knees and check for a pulse. The pain in my chest is intense; it feels like my heart is about to explode out of my chest. Diane's pulse is slow and thready. I can't lose her now. Not after everything we've been through the past few months. Her clothes are torn from her body, exposing her breasts. Her pants are half way down her legs. Dear God, was she raped? The sirens are getting closer. I feel someone pulling at my arm.

"Ethan, get up. The EMT's are here. Let them do their job!"

It's my father. I take one look at his face and shatter into a million pieces. I crumble onto the grass and take him down with me. My body is shaking uncontrollably, and I can't stop it. I hear voices all around me. They are talking about Diane. When I look up, they have her on a gurney, and she has an oxygen mask on her face. Did she stop breathing again? Is she dead? That's the last thing I remember before I lose consciousness.

*****

When I open my eyes, my head is on my father's lap, and he is running his fingers through my hair. Our eyes meet, and I feel hot tears running down the side of my face. I don't have the strength to lift my head. I've lost the will to live. "Where is she? Where is my wife?"

One of the police officers answers me. "The ambulance is taking your wife to Mercy Hospital. Your father filled us in on what's been happening the past few months. We received a call from a jogger who found her body and called us. He said he didn't see anyone in the area and stayed with her until we arrived. I instructed the EMT's not to disturb her clothing. There is DNA material that we will need as evidence."

"Dad, can you help me get up and take me to the hospital? I don't think I can drive my car."

"Dr. Miller, let us take you. This is an emergency. You can leave your car on the street."

My dad said, "Go with the officer, Ethan. I'll follow you, and call your brother."

The twenty-minute ride to the hospital is the longest twenty minutes of my life. When I arrive at the hospital, I run into the emergency room to find my wife. Several of the nurses know me and lead me to her room. What I witness is beyond my worse fear. Diane's eyes are open, and she is staring blankly at the ceiling. When I approach the bed, she doesn't turn her head to look at me. She's not blinking. She's not moving. She's catatonic! She is still fully clothed, and now that I can take a look at her, I see the DNA evidence on her breasts and stomach. Her tank top is ripped down the middle, and her bra is open. Her pants and her lace panties are half way down her legs. I feel someone tapping me on the shoulder. When I turn around, I see my brother, another doctor and a police officer with a camera standing next to me.

"Ethan, please come with me. The police officer and the doctor need a few minutes alone with Diane."

"No, I don't want to leave her Jerry. I need to be with her."

"You don't want to see this Ethan. Please, step outside and let the police and the doctor do their jobs."

I turn one last time to look at the love of my life, and the pain that I feel at this moment is so intense, I have no words to adequately describe it. The doctor has a rape kit in her hand. My heart tightens at the thought of my wife being violated in that way. Two fucking hours later, I am allowed to see my wife. Diane is moved to a private room, and thankfully, she has been bathed and is wearing a hospital gown. Her clothes sit on a chair in an evidence bag, and the police officer is writing something on the evidence tag. The officer walks over to me and touches my arm.

"I am sorry this has happened to your wife, Dr. Miller. I will have my report ready by the end of the day and deliver it to our sex crimes unit."

All I can say is, "Thank you." What else can I say? Kill the fucker?

*****

I've read the medical report, and the only two words that resonate with me are, "no penetration." The semen is localized to her chest and stomach. She has a few cuts and bruises on her face, a sprained right wrist and scrapes to her hands and legs. The psychological trauma is much worse. Diane hasn't moved or blinked in the two hours that I've been in her room. Craig Jenkins recommends nasogastric intubation for the immediate future, and I agree with him. In her current catatonic state, eating and drinking are not an option.

Diane is unresponsive to verbal command and stimuli. The MRI shows no signs of a stroke, or bleeding, which is good news for her. Therefore, the problem is psychological, not physical. Once again, my family is in the waiting room. My children haven't stopped crying since they arrived at the hospital. My father wants to speak to me privately, and we go back to my office.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

My father sighs and shakes his head. "I called Barbara to tell her what has happened, and she said she had an argument with Diane last night. She accused Diane of faking her amnesia, among other things. I think the argument is why she left the house. She was upset and probably went for a walk and got lost."

"That fucking bitch! How could she do this to her daughter? I don't want them near her. If I see her fucking face in this hospital, I'll have her thrown out!"

"Calm down, Ethan."

"Why should I? This is her fault! She has always been a bitch towards Diane. I'm done with them. I don't want them near Diane or the kids. You make sure they stay away from my children."

I don't leave the hospital for the next ten days. Diane remains in a catatonic state. Her skin is a sickly pale color, and she's already lost weight. I've had meetings with several different psychiatrists, and they all say the same thing. They recommend giving her Benzodiazepine. I will not approve this treatment option because Benzodiazepine is highly addictive. Diane has never shown signs of mental illness. Whatever triggered this episode has nothing to do with a mental deficiency. I have also made the decision to take her home. I've applied for and was granted an indefinite medical leave. There is no one more qualified to take care of my wife than me. I want her out of this hospital and home with me and the kids. This will be the best environment for her, and it gives me time to come up with a treatment option.

Diane

I am floating on a cloud of nothing.

It is dark and lonely. I welcome the dark.

I am not afraid of the dark.

My life is over. I have tried to cope, but I can't do it anymore.

This time...I want to die.

I want to die and fade away.