Dear Brenda...

Inspired by the true story of Sandra Duyst, a Michigan woman...

The shadows of two middle-aged women comb over the dirt inside a large red barn, located on the outskirts of Michigan. Everything is still in place. Haystacks neatly piled in the back corner. Each of the four horses are fed. The first woman, a middle-aged woman named Brenda, runs her hair through her dirty blonde hair, frizzed due to the stress of the last three months. Her sister, Anna, trails behind her. The girls gaze around at the farm that their eldest sister, Sandy, loved.

“God, Nesley was Sandy’s baby..” Brenda reminisces, stroking the tail of the only Brown horse on the farm.

“I know.” Anna sighs, flopping her arms by her sides.

Since Sandy’s suicide four months prior, the girls are lost without their older sister. The glue of their family has been stripped away. Sandy was always the one to go to, the one who listened the most, the one whose shoulder was best to cry on. Brenda, after spending nearly 3 months in the house, has just garnered the strength to revisit her sister’s barn. One that Sandy spent a chunk of building from the ground up. Anna, though she didn’t take it as hard, was equally heartbroken. The scent of Sandy’s perfume that was unintentionally left in her Novi home was enough to bring Anna to tears the night before. With Sandy’s parents unable to gather their daughters’ things, and with the permission of Sandy’s husband, Jeremy, the sisters decided that to do so themselves.

“I hope Jeremy takes care of it,” Brenda sighs, rubbing Nesley’s head. “You know Sandra was the one who spent the most time taking care of the barn.”

“Sandra hadn’t spent the last year taking care of it either,” Anna says, trailing her fingers across the rusty rails of the gates. “Ever since that horse accident, she never liked coming here as much. Jeremy said that they hired someone else to clean it months after.”

Brenda squints her eyes, slowly drooping her arm away from Sandy’s favorite horse.

“Sandy ever tell you why Nesley up and decided to kick her in the head?” Brenda asks, turning towards her sister. “I had never heard of him giving her problems until that day. What was that, a year ago?”

“Beats me. Said Nesley was cranky that entire day,” Anna shrugged. “She tried to take him out the barn, he apparently didn’t like it, boom. Bucked and kicked her in the head.”

“Makes me wonder if the head injury messed with her brain,” Brenda wonders, eyeing the horse. “Sandra wasn’t suicidal until after that….”

“Hm.”

Entering the 3000 square foot ranch, the sisters are introduced to a home that appears as if Sister Sandy had left it a day prior. Everything is just as neat as Sandy left it. China is neat inside of the cabinets. The dining table is still set. Sandy’s favorite rug remains in the front of their rugged couch. Sandy’s family photo of her, her husband, and three children remain above her fireplace. The scent of Sandy spraying too much perfume is present throughout the home, stuck to the walls due to years of abusing her fragrances. Anna struggles as the same smell brings her to tears once more.

“Oh, Anna,” Brenda sighs, placing her hand on the shoulder of her younger sister. “Have you been inside since?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are the pictures of her too much?”

“No, it’s that….damn perfume she used to shower herself with,” Anna jokes, laughing with her sister while wiping her teary eyes. “She wore so much of that crap that it’s stuck to the wall!”

“God, I know!” Brenda cackles, leaning on the dining room chair. “I used to say, ‘Sandy if you spray any more of that crap, you’re gonna choke on it!”

After the quick laughter, the Sisters notice a note left on the table by Jeremy.

“Dear Anna and Brenda,

I’ve left for work. Everything of Sandra’s has been left untouched. There are items not only in our bedroom, but in her library. I’ve also left both of you three additional boxes. Take anything you need, but please leave her jewelry. I want to give those to our daughters. - Jeremy.”

Spending an hour boxing Sandy’s bedroom items, it was time for the sisters to start the library. “A hoarders paradise.” Anna often called it, which angered Sandy from time to time. What appeared to be junk was sentimental in Sandy’s way. Though clutter was present, the clutter was organized. Items were neatly stacked inside of the plastic drawers around her computer desk. Papers lay stacked in piles around Sandy’s keyboard. A cup sits stuffed with pens and pencils. Brenda approaches the desk, laughing at the excessive amount of writing utensils.

“How many pens and pencils did she need?” Anna giggled, holding her fingers out to the cup.

“I’ll take some to Joseph,” Brenda shrugs, referring to her 15-year-old son. “He loses pencils like wildfire in high school, these shall last him a lifetime.”

Playing ‘Angel Eyes – Ella Fitzgerald’ on Sandy’s record player, the women work around the cluttered room. With Anna packaging items in the front, such as Sandy’s favorite books and computer items, Brenda sat in the back, packaging Sandy’s files and paperwork. Lifting the biggest folder, an envelope slips out.

To Brenda. (Read while alone.)

“You ever wonder just how many years Sandy has kept these items around?” Anna asks, holding two of Sandy’s books while slowly tilting her head left to right to the slow music. “I can bet since she and Jeremy moved in 20 years ago.”

Opening the envelope, Brenda’s eyes morphed into a look of concern. Not knowing Brenda is reading, Anna continues to talk while packaging books.

“Or maybe 25 years ago? I may have gotten the years wrong.”

“Unh huh..” Brenda mumbles, half paying attention, eyes glued to her sister's note.

For days, Brenda reread the note, over and over. Whatever was in the note seemed to consume Brenda’s mind, as her husband stated. “What is that paper you keep reading?” He often asked. “Nothing.” Brenda often responded. It was time to put the note away to avoid further curiosity, at least throughout the day. During the night, Brenda sat up in bed, reading the note over and over with her small book light.

On a Friday, husband off to work and two children off to school, Brenda made a call.

“Warren Police Department?”

One month later…

In the Warren Medical Examiners office, Sandy’s body is rolled out onto a metal slab, exhumed with a Warrant issued by the Warren Police Department. Face somewhat discolored, bob cut brunette hair moist and lipstick still on her mouth from the dressing of her funeral, Sandy’s body is visually decent. The second medical examiner in the room presses play on the recording tape, documenting the first medical examiners' words.

“The date is November 7th, 2001, my victim, Sandra Davidson, is 5’7, weighs approximately 110 pounds, no wounds to the victims' hands, growth is normal for a 40-year-old woman,” The first-medical examiner states, circling the table as he makes his observations. “There are no wounds on the victims' hands or body besides of a cesarean section scar below the woman’s navel, medical records in the victims' files indicating that she had one 20-years-ago for her eldest son. The woman has staples in the back of her head after suffering multiple head injuries from a horse years prior. The only fatal wound on the victim is a gunshot wound to the right temple, which was ruled as self-inflicted by the previous medical examiner.”

Walking beside the body, the female medical examiner washes her hands to prepare to give a second look. While drying, something about the body captures her eye.

“The death has been ruled as a suicide, as the wound has stippling-“

“Wait Carson,” The female medical examiner interrupts. “You want to take a look at this..”

Raising an eyebrow, the first medical examiner pauses the recording.

“What’s the problem?” He asks.

“There’s not one gunshot wound, there’s two?”

The color leaves the first medical examiner's face. Quickly rushing to the ride side of Sandy’s body, the female medical examiner grabs a small pen, tracing it alongside Sandra’s head, right behind Sandy’s ear. One wound is visible, as it has exited the left side of her head. The second isn’t visible but is somewhat buried in the dark pits of Sandy’s hair. There is no exit wound.

“My God…” The First Medical examiner whispers in disbelief.

Reading the copied version of Sandy’s note, Brenda sits surrounded by her sister, mother, and father. All have been summoned to Brenda’s home to reveal what Brenda has kept to herself, finally revealing why Sandy’s body had to be exhumed.

“Dear Brenda,

I am writing this letter in not only a deeply depressed state, but a clear one. I’ve hidden this letter in the furthest of my files since Jeremy never comes into the library in the first place. Anywho, if anything ever happens to me, look first at Jeremy. The barn Incident with Nesley was no accident. As a matter of fact, it was intentional. Nesley never has and would never hurt me, even in his darkest days. I love the barn, I do, but it brings back a memory so painful that I don’t ever think I’ll be able to return. 2 years ago, I had done what I spent 25 years doing since we purchased the home. Cleaning the barn. Taking care of the animals that are so dear to me. While cleaning, I was struck in the head by what I thought was a piece of wood that may have fallen above. I turned and saw what was more horrifying than a stranger who had entered my home unannounced. Jeremy, standing over me with a shovel. I knew he was going to kill me. Striking me two more times, I cried out loud, “Why are you doing this, Jeremy? What have I done wrong?” That is when he stopped hitting me. I crawled out of the barn in fear. My neighbor, Langston, ran out of his ranch and asked me if I was alright after hearing my screams. Before I could answer, Jeremy ran out and screamed, “That damn horse kicked her in the head! My God, let’s get her to a hospital!” I just went along with it.

We never spoke on it again. Instead, he spent the months after indirectly making it up to me. Showering me with gifts, taking me out to eat more times than he has in the last 3 years, and taking me and the children out on more trips. He’s never apologized, just acted abnormally nice. I may sound foolish, but I think the barn incident may have made David change for the better. Maybe he realizes the woman he could have lost in the process. Maybe he realizes that the children would be lost without their mother. Maybe he realized that the life insurance I had on myself had lapsed, and I haven’t renewed it. I love David and my number one priority is that the family stays together, at least until Gabriel goes off to college. Maybe then I’ll finally have enough strength to divorce him

If Jeremy was able to make an attempt on my life once, he’s capable of doing it again… - Sandy.