"I am trying," she said, her voice just above a whisper. She stared at the floor, standing by the door.
"Trying?" her mother, Mrs. Lala, mocked her with a smirk.
Tension engulfed the room, suffocating.
Thud—
"I want you above that mistress's daughter!" she shouted, throwing a vase against the wall. Lily didn't flinch; she was immune to it. Mrs. Lala stood up from the sofa, went to her, and grabbed her cheek tightly.
"You have to be first." She brought her face close to Lily's. "But you didn't. You came third."
"Now, time for punishment."
Lily flinched, terror running through her body, her limbs shaking. She shook her head violently. "No, please no..." she murmured.
Thuk—
Mrs. Lala ignored her and threw her over the vase pieces. Her knees were buried in them, and her palms got cut. Mrs. Lala walked away after giving her a final glance from the corner of her eye.
"Useless," she murmured.
Lily stayed as she was for a few minutes, trying to steady herself. She got up, cleaned the vase pieces, and went to her room. It was beautifully decorated, a typical girlish look. She went in front of the mirror and stared at herself.
She went to the bathroom to shower and applied medicine to her cuts. She sighed deeply.
As soon as she realized it was 9:00 PM, she took some pills from her drawer and went to Mrs. Lala's room.
"Ma," she called out softly. Too softly.
"Oh dear, when did you get here?" Mrs. Lala asked her gently.
There was a sudden shift in the environment; the air became breathable.
"Just now." Lily loosened her shoulders. "Now, take your meds, okay?"
"I will, but how did you get hurt?" Mrs. Lala asked, frowning.
Lily just smiles and passes her meds.
Lily’s POV:
My mother is suffering from dissociative identity disorder (formerly known as split personality disorder). She wasn’t like this before—or at least things were mild enough—but as soon as my father left, for whatever reason, she became worse and worse.
She loves me a lot; I know she does. It’s just that she isn’t in her right mind. I thought I could endure it, but then I realized she is going to kill me if I don’t take a step to stop it all.
Tomorrow, everything is going to be over. I will try to end this—again.
POV end.
Next morning:
The sun was shining high, covering the city in a warm hug.
It was supposed to be a peaceful morning, but...
"So, you called us?" a young man in a police uniform asked.
Lily nodded, her expression blank.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"I am going to send her to a mental asylum today. I don't know how it happened." She took a deep breath. "She is having a personality split disorder," she stated, her face as blank as a doll's. Emotionless.
The officer looked at her with pity and left. "Based on the situation, it looks like a suicide case."
“Sir, we found a note!” a man from the police team shouted.
“Dear Lily,
I know about the disorder—the new injuries every day, your father’s sudden disappearance, and the way I keep forgetting major things. I am sorry. I can’t hold back anymore.
I know that for a year, you have been trying to send me to an asylum but have failed every time. I am sorry, dear. I have so much to write, but I will only say I love you. Lily, take care, darling.
Goodbye.”
The officer in charge sighed and looked toward Lily. She stood there with a blank expression.
He passed the note to her and waited for her to react.
But she... she didn't react. Not yet. Not there.
The case was open and shut.
In a few days, the city forgot and moved on. Everything was normal. But somewhere, was a girl’s life ruined? Or saved?
It’s hard to state.
𝓗𝓮𝔂 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮.
𝓡𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓽𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂.
𝓑𝔂𝓲𝓮!!
𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓵𝓵.
