Fractured Minds

Lily POV

“MOM! MOM! WAKE UP! PLEASE!” I scream, my throat raw, my voice breaking. I’m clutching her—my mother—her body limp in my arms, a knife buried in her chest. How... how did this happen? Who did this? Did someone break in? Was it a robbery gone wrong? I—I can’t remember. My mind is a fog, everything blurred and heavy. All I know is her blood is everywhere—on me, on the floor—and I don’t know how I got here.

“Mom... please. Tell me who did this,” I whisper, though I know she can’t answer.

You did.

A voice slithers through the room. I spin, heart hammering in my chest, searching the shadows.

“Who said that?” My voice trembles. Nothing.

BANG! BANG!

“Police! Open up!”

The sound snaps me upright. Cops. They’re here. But I—I didn’t do it!

Yes, you did. The voice hisses again.

“Who’s there?” I gasp, terror tangling with confusion.

BANG! BANG!

“Police! We got a call about a possible domestic disturbance. Neighbors heard a woman screaming. We just want to talk.”

I shake my head violently. No. I didn’t do anything. I repeat it like a prayer.

You had to. She was going to hurt you. She’s always tried to hurt you.

They’ll understand... eventually, the voice laughs, sharp and mocking.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” I scream, clutching my head as if I could crush the sound out of existence.

“Sounds like someone’s inside,” a cop says. “Ma’am, open the door, or we will break it down.”

I freeze. My mother’s body lies heavy in my arms. Her blood smells metallic and thick in my nose. My hands are shaking. The room feels smaller now, suffocating.

I just sit there, silent, the world reduced to the pounding of my own heart and the echo of a voice that promises I did the impossible.

Then I hear the crash—the door splintering—and the officers come rushing in. Guns raised, voices sharp but controlled.

“Police! Don’t move! Hands where we can see them!” one shouts.

I freeze, trembling, and slowly raise my hands. “I—I didn’t do anything,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

“Stay calm, miss. Step away from the body, slowly,” another officer commands, his gun trained but steady.

I take a hesitant step back, my legs shaking. “I— I don’t know what happened!”

“Okay. That’s fine. Just keep your hands visible,” the first officer says. “What’s your name?”

“Lily... Lily Bennett,” I manage, swallowing hard.

“Do you know the victim?”

“Yes... she’s—she’s my mother,” I choke out.

“Miss Bennett, for your safety and ours, we need to place you in handcuffs,” the officer says calmly but firmly. One steps forward, covering me with his firearm trained on the room, while another gently grips my wrists.

“Please... don’t—don’t take me away from her,” I whisper, panic rising.

“I know this is hard,” he says softly, “but you need to come with us right now.”

They cuff me carefully, checking that the cuffs aren’t cutting off circulation, and guide me backward, keeping a firm hand on my arms. Another officer watches the room, scanning for any signs of danger.

I’m shoved into the back of the patrol car, the door clicking shut. The smell of leather, the cold metal cuffs, and the sound of the engine rumbling feel unreal. My mother’s body is still there, just beyond the car window, and I can’t stop trembling, my mind spinning.

When we arrive at the station, the officers place me in an interrogation room—for questioning, I guess. I’ve been sitting here for what feels like forever, my thoughts spinning in circles, wondering how I ended up here and what might happen next.

My nerves get the best of me and the acidic taste of nausea hits me, and I vomit into the small trash can beside me.

Don’t play dumb—you know what happened, the voice teases. Years of your mother’s abuse... it’s about time you did something.

“SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE!” I scream, pressing my hands to my ears, trying to block it out.

The door opens, and two officers enter—one male, one female.

“Miss Bennett, are you okay?” the male officer asks.

I just stare at them. Does it look like I’m okay?

“Lily... can I call you Lily?” the female officer asks gently.

I nod. She smiles faintly. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“No... I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

“Well, why don’t you try walking us through it, from what you remember?” she suggests.

I try. I really do. But everything is fuzzy, like fragments of a dream just out of reach.

“I think... we were having an argument... I’m not sure... but I didn’t do it. I would never hurt my mother,” I say loudly, hoping they’ll believe me. I can’t go to jail—I don’t think I could survive it.

“Calm down. No one’s saying you did it. We’re just trying to figure out what happened. Our team is at your house now, taking DNA samples,” she reassures me.

“Do you remember what the argument could have been about?” she asks softly.

I shake my head no and rest my elbow on the table, holding my head in my hands.

“Did you... like it? Killing your mother... it had to feel good, right?” the male officer says.

I jerk my head up, eyes wide. “W—what did you say?”

They exchange a quick, confused glance.

“I—uh, I asked if you need anything,” he stammers, his tone careful now. “Something to drink?”

“Oh... no, that’s okay,” I manage, still trembling.

What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I suddenly hearing things?

“Alright, we’ll be right back, Miss Bennett. Just hang tight for a minute,” the female officer says gently.

I nod numbly, still trying to calm the storm of panic swirling in my chest.

I waited again for what felt like an hour—or maybe two. I couldn’t be sure; there was no clock in the room, making it impossible to tell how much time had passed. Just as I was about to stand and call someone to ask, the door swung open.

Instead of officers, a man stepped inside, carrying a clipboard. He moved slowly, deliberately, with a calm, quiet authority that somehow felt less threatening than the officers. He looked like a doctor—smartly dressed, glasses perched on his nose, blond hair neatly combed, and a suit that fit him perfectly.

“Hello, Miss Bennett,” he said smoothly. “My name’s Dr. Marlowe. I’ve been asked to come by and ask you a few questions. Is that all right?”

“I… I guess,” I whispered.

“Splendid.” He smiled warmly and took the chair directly across from me, keeping a comfortable distance. Behind him, the two male officers remained standing, silent and watchful.

“You’ve been through something terrifying,” he continued gently. “I’m here to help, not to hurt you. Can you tell me your name?”

“Lily Bennett,” I say again, my voice barely audible.

“Good,” he nods. “I know it’s confusing right now. Everything probably feels like it’s spinning. I just want to ask you some questions, and you can answer however you can. There’s no right or wrong.”

“How old are you, Miss Bennett?”

“Twenty.”

“Do you know where you are right now?”

“Yes... at the police station.”

He writes something down on his clipboard.

“Do you know what day it is?”

“April 14th?” I say, unsure. In all honesty, I’m not certain. Why wouldn’t I know what day it is?

He glances up at me briefly, then writes something else. My stomach drops. That must’ve been wrong.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“No... I don’t,” I say quietly. His pen moves again.

“How are you feeling right now, Miss Bennett?”

“Scared. Confused. I didn’t do it—I would never hurt my own mother,” I say quickly, my voice rising.

“I understand,” he says with a small, practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No one is saying you did anything.”

But his eyes... they feel like they’re cutting straight through me.

“Have you ever had any blackouts? Periods of time you can’t account for?”

“No.”

“Have you had any thoughts that worry you?”

“No.”

“Have you ever seen or heard things that others might not?”

My blood runs cold.

What do I say? If I tell him, they’ll think I’m crazy. They’ll think I did it.

But you did, the voice snickers.

“N—no,” I stammer.

“Are you sure?” he asks gently. “Lily, you’re in a safe space. You can tell me anything.”

Safe? I don’t feel safe.

They think you’re crazy. Maybe you are.

“Stop...” I whisper under my breath, pressing my fingers to my temples.

“Lily,” he says, leaning forward slightly, “it’s okay. If something’s wrong, we need to know.”

“I—I hear things,” I finally admit, my voice barely audible. “Voices... saying I... I did it.”

My hands start trembling, and I bring them up to my face.

Dr. Marlowe stays calm, his tone steady. “That must be very frightening, Lily. Hearing voices doesn’t make you a bad person. It just means your mind is under a lot of stress.”

“When did you first start hearing them?”

“Today... but I—I didn’t do it... I couldn’t have...” I whisper, panic creeping back in.

“I understand,” he says softly. “Right now, you’re not safe on your own, and what you’re experiencing is overwhelming. For your safety, we’re going to have you stay somewhere you can be observed and supported—a place where people understand what you’re going through.”

“No... no, I don’t want that,” I say, shaking my head. “I just want to go home.”

“I know,” he replies gently. “But home isn’t the best place right now—not for you, and not for anyone else. We’re going to make sure you’re safe. You’re not alone in this.”

Dr. Marlowe gives a subtle nod to the officers. One of them steps out of the room, returning moments later with two men dressed in maroon scrubs.

They walk toward me.

My chair scrapes loudly against the floor as I jump to my feet, panic surging through my body.

“No—no, stay back,” I say, backing away, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest.

“Lily, it’s okay,” Dr. Marlowe says calmly, standing slowly. “No one is going to hurt you.”

“Don’t come near me!” I shout, my voice shaking. “I’m not crazy! I didn’t do anything!”

The two men in maroon scrubs stop a few feet away, their hands raised slightly, cautious.

“Lily,” one of them says gently, “we just want to help you. You’re safe.”

Theres that word again. Safe.

They’re lying, the voice hisses. They’re taking you away because they know what you did.

“SHUT UP!” I scream, clutching my head.

The room spins. The walls feel like they’re closing in. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

“Okay,” Dr. Marlowe says, his tone still controlled but firmer now. “We’re going to give you something to help you calm down.”

“No! Don’t touch me!” I try to back away again, but I hit the wall. There’s nowhere left to go.

The two men move quickly but carefully, each taking one of my arms. I struggle, but I’m too weak, too disoriented.

“Please—please don’t—”

“It’s okay,” one of them says softly. “This will help.”

I feel a sharp pinch in my arm.

“No—wait—”

The room tilts.

My body goes heavy, like it’s not mine anymore. My legs give out, and the men catch me before I hit the floor.

The voices blur together—Dr. Marlowe, the officers, the one in my head—all mixing into one overwhelming noise.

You did this.

My vision fades at the edges, darkness creeping in.

The last thing I see is Dr. Marlowe smiling down at me—calm, certain. “Don’t worry, Lily,” he murmurs. “We’ll take very good care of you.”

You’re right where you belong now. The voice says again.

Then everything goes dark.