Where's Zyerne?

Gail’s friends saw her weeping. Some tried to comfort her. Some wept with her. But they didn’t know Gail wasn’t there. Gail had integrated a few months ago, but they didn’t know about her integration or alters. They didn’t know anyone who lived in this body anymore.

Behind the tears, Jenny went through all their calming techniques while keeping up the grieving facade. This was how Gail would have grieved if she were still around. Jenny would have grieved differently. She was very sad—the whole system was very, very sad—but she was the protector; she had to hold them together until they could get away from everyone else.

The system had been looking forward to coming home to Gail’s adoptive parents since the start of the spring semester. The couple had put up with them, loved them, even cherished them since Gail was five. That’s when she was finally taken from her abusive, drug-addicted birth mother. Her adoptive parents had accepted them when she was diagnosed with DID as a teenager, supported them through therapy, and prepared them for college. The system had been so, so looking forward to spending the summer in that love, the littles most of all.

Instead, they’d come home to two dead bodies. A gas leak. A freak accident. And the whole world wanted to shatter again. It felt like everyone was trying to push to the front; it took all Jenny had to keep from switching. Only years of therapy gave her the willpower.

“Go. Get Gail out of here!” It was Markus, one of the gatekeepers, co-fronting with her. Together, they picked Gail up from her knees and drove her out of the hospital room with the excuse: “I have to make a call. Give me a few minutes.”

“Get Gail as far from here as you can,” Markus advised. As soon as Gail’s friends could no longer see them, they took off. They ran out of the hospital, across the parking lot, past Phil the homeless guy, and behind the old coin laundry.

They were switching now, forgetting why they were running and where they were whenever Jenny and Markus lost the front. Every last one of them, though, knew what had happened. Out of anyone’s earshot, they collapsed and wept as Jenny gave up and let little Abigail front.

“Where’s Zyerne? WHERE IS Zyerne?” Markus screamed in the inner world. That was the name of their main trauma holder, the only one of them who could manage this. “Jenny, you have a connection to him.”

Jenny hadn’t heard from Zyerne in months, but she knew his triggers. She retook the front, pushing everyone else away. Gail stood, wiped her face, and walked to the small pond near her parents’ apartment. Thank God the small purple flowers were still in bloom. The smell of the lilacs always got a reaction from Zyerne.

Not this time. Instead, Gloria pushed toward the front, thinking, “Not the most fragrant flowers.”

Jenny would have responded, but their new host wasn’t yet aware of most of the other alters. She wouldn’t hear Jenny.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Jenny drove Gail into the fountain, sneakers, jeans, and all. They climbed onto the stone dragon perpetually spitting a narrow stream of water; they pretended to soar through the skies like they had as a child. This would bring back trauma. Zyerne would come out for this.

“Aren’t we too old to splash in a fountain?” Gloria’s voice. Had Gail integrated with Zyerne to make their new host?

“Integration is a good thing,” Jenny reminded herself. That knowledge didn’t keep new tears from spilling down Gail’s cheeks.

Sliding from the dragon’s back, Jenny knew at once that Zyerne was dead.