The flashing blue and red lights illuminated the parking lot. The lights came from five police cars and three ambulances. Police officers ran about while some were taking down notes. There were some people taking pictures of the actual crime scene that was inside the brick walled building.

"I have never seen such a scene before," one police officer said as he looked at the two bodies with disgust. One body was a young girl, age 19. Her name was Lily Donner, a patient at Memorial Lane's Mental Institution. She had only been a patient for four months. She was sprawled on the ground, her icy blue eyes still open with shock; her pale lips were slightly parted, allowing a trickle of blood to paint her cheeks. Three bullets rested in her chest; one near her heart, one that probably hit her stomach, and one directly in the center of her rib cage. If that wasn't enough to kill her, she had one bullet lodged in the center of her skull.

The other body belonged to an older woman, age 37, my wife, Georgia Banks. She was collapsed on the far side of the room, right below the window. She had only one bullet inside of her; and she still had the caliber colt 45 in her hand.

I, on the other hand, had two bullets, both missed all vital organs. One just gazed my arm, and another had hit my right shoulder. I was already out of that room and heading towards the hospital.

Surgery took almost four hours, maybe more, maybe less. I was so drugged it felt like only three minutes. The doctors told me that I will make a complete recovery.

Resting on the hospital bed, I watched something on the news about the murder-suicide at Memorial Lane's Mental Institution. The reporter on the news said that the causes for the scene were still under investigation. It had just gone to commercial when he entered my room. The man was probably 6 feet tall with a medium build. He had sandy blonde hair with a set of brown eyes. A white notebook was in his right hand and a pencil rested behind his ear.

"You'll need a bigger notebook." I said to the man. I knew he came to interview me on this crime. You would think that the hospital would allow some time to pass before they let people in to see me.

The man smiled and laughed a little. He walked into the room, holding out his hand to shake. "Hi, Dr. Banks, my name is Detective—"

"Shut the door if you want to know anything." Disbelief quickly flashed across his face, but he went to the door and shut it. He took one of the seats that were in the room and pulled it next to the window side of the bed. I looked over his face which showed no emotion. "So why should I tell you my story."

Again, there was the quick shock in his eyes, but he looked at me with confidence. "To be honest, you don't have to say anything to me. But if you don't tell me, the police will put you under interrogation." A small smile crept across his face.

Seeing how I didn't have much of a choice in the matter, I would have to tell him eventually. But first, I wanted to make sure that I wasn't going to get the short end of the stick. "I'll tell you everything, and you can decide what you want to tell the police. But," I waited to see if he would react. Nothing. "But I want you to make me a deal. You want me to explain what happened; a story very close and very personal. What will you do for me?"

The detective scanned my face; probably searching for some sort of answer. "What do you want?"

I almost laughed. What do I want? "I want a favor. When the time comes, you will do a favor for me, with no questions asked." Detective probably didn't fully realize the weight of this favor. But nonetheless, he stretched out his hand with a smile and the deal was sealed. "Good. Then my story begins about three months ago, with the beginning of spring…"

It was a beautiful evening; the sun was setting, casting beautiful reds and oranges across the sky. The temperature was getting warmer, allowing drivers to ride with their windows down. I was leaving the Memorial Lane's Mental Institution for as you see, I worked there as one of the psychiatrists. Everyday, I would talk with my patients, give them a series of tests, and then prescribe them medicine. The ironic part was that place made me insane. It's patients, its sterile whites; every god damned corner was the same.

That day, I was thinking about quitting. The fear that I would become a patient, instead of the doctor, began to play on my mind. I was so focused on my fear that I took one turn too soon. The road was a dead end that led to a park. It looked abandoned; the forest was over grown, picnic tables were rotting, and an old rusty playground looked to be about ready to collapse.

But that park wasn't abandoned. As I scanned the swing sets, there sat a young girl. I couldn't make out her face, only that she was wearing a yellow top with jeans. Her long sandy blonde hair flowed behind her back. It never even occurred to me to turn my car around and leave that broken down park.

Unconsciously, I had turned my car off and I was already stepping outside. I slowly walked towards the girl; when I was about twenty feet away from her, I spoke. "Hello."

She didn't notice, or, she was just plain ignoring me. I could hear her humming what sounded like an old childhood nursery song. Her features were astonishing, now that I could actually see her. She had high cheek bones that were softly blushed with the weather. Her lips were thin, but not ghastly thin, with some sort of lip gloss covering them. But her eyes stood out the most. Even though she wasn't looking at me, I could see the blue eyes staring off into the distance. They were stunning; all her other features just melted away with those eyes. The eyes were so stunning, that I didn't even notice that her wrist was bleeding.

And when I finally did notice, I was shocked. Hesitating at first, but then realizing that she needed help I ran back to my car and grabbed the first garment of clothing I could see. It was a blue cotton shirt that had came from some no-name store; it had been a gift from my wife.

After I grabbed it, I began tearing it in several long strips. Running towards the girl, it seemed as though she finally noticed me. She didn't say anything to me as I asked if I could wrap her arm. Her eyes began to tear up which I took as a yes. So I quickly went to work, cutting off the major blood flow and wrapping the wound.

"Can you walk?" I asked after her wrist had been wrapped. When she didn't answer I continued. "You'll have to go to the hospital. I'll take you there but I need to know if you can walk."

The girl looked at me with those sad blue eyes. Tears were flowing from her eyes down her cheeks. Her face turned extremely pale in a matter a seconds and she fainted. I caught her and practically ran to my car. It was a miracle I wasn't stopped by the police for speeding.

I had decided to stay with the girl until she woke up. The doctors came out of the room soon after they went in. "Are you the girl's father?"

I shook my head. "No, I happened to have seen her at a park. I noticed her wrist and wrapped it as quickly as I could. I then brought her here." It never occurred to me how suspicious this sounded because the doctor raised his eyebrow.

"So you don't know who this girl is?" Again, I shook my head. "Very well. She's awake now and is perfectly healthy as far as her wound goes. You must have gotten there at the right time. A few more minutes and she would have been dead."

That was a shock. If I wasn't there, she would have died. "What will happen now?"

The doctor looked at me with suspicion again, but he must have thought that answering my question wouldn't hurt. "Well, once we get a hold of her guardians, they'll decide how to treat her. She might go into therapy; at least, I hope she does."

I nodded and left the hospital. There wasn't anything else I could do and it wouldn't look good if I stuck around. It was just then that I remembered that I didn't call my wife at all to let her know what had happened. She would be mad when I got home.

And boy was I right. We got into a huge fight that night. "Where have you been?" She screamed. She was tall enough to look me straight into my eyes. And even though I was still taller than her, she seemed to have grown into a giant. "I have been worried sick about you!" Her curly brown hair was pulled back into a neat bun. She didn't have the icy blue eyes as the girl did; instead, she had hard dark brown eyes that would make any person shift in their seat.

"Sorry Georgia, it was a late-"

"A late what! Another late day at the office? You know, you can at least call if you are going to be late." She turned on her heals and started to chop some vegetables. Her face was red with anger.

"Georgia," I said softly. I began to walk towards her but she turned to face me, knife in hand.

"No, don't 'Georgia' me!" When she realized that she was waving the knife in the air, she put it down, almost like it was burning her skin. "This is the third time this week that you have been late." Her eyes softened but did not hold any forgiveness; it was then I noticed that she had been crying. "Have you found someone else? Am I not good enough for you?"

I was shocked. "No, no, you are great. I had to take a…detour today. I got lost." I hated to lie, but telling her the truth might make her angrier then relieved.

Georgia didn't seem to be satisfied with the answer. Her brown eyes watered and she went back to chopping her vegetables so I left her alone so she could cool down. Fights like these were becoming more frequent. They started after we lost the baby; she had a miscarriage and became infertile. When she lost the baby and found out she couldn't have a kid of her own, she broke. Something inside of her would be forever missing.

"About a month later, it seemed the like the event at the park never happened. I had forgotten the incident and about the girl. It was only when I had to meet with a new patient that my illusions were completely destroyed and I was back to that fateful day at the park." I paused in my story. An hour had passed since I began and the detective wrote notes every now and then. When he noticed that I had stopped he looked up at me.

"What happened?" he asked politely.

I looked around the room; same as it was when he got here. "Have you ever wondered why hospitals aren't more homelike?" I watched for the detective's face to change; it didn't. "No? Well, then, no need in keeping you waiting."

"So about month later, I had to meet with my new patient. It would become the first of many and frequent visits. Like I said before, I have to talk with each of my patients to analyze their actions, thoughts, and other various elements. When I looked down at the charts that day, I read that her name was Lily Donner."

"So you didn't know the girl's name from before?" The detective interrupted.

"Who said that they were the same person?" I laughed at my own comment. I abruptly stopped my laughter and stared into the detective's brown eyes. "Anyway, so do you want me to tell you the story or would you like to tell me. I'm a great listener." I almost laughed at the irony of my own comment. I'm a great listener. But the detective looked unmoved and waved his hand as if to say "go on."

The day that I met Lily Donner was a very long day. It was her "orientation day" so to speak. It was the first of many visits and testing.

When she walked into my office, it was then I became aware that she was the girl from the park; no one could forget those eyes, although, that day I wished I had. Those piercing eyes cut through me as if it were an actual knife cutting my flesh.

After the nurse left her in my office, she stood at the door. Her stance gave the impression that she was going to run from the office. Even if she did, there were nurses and attendants outside the office waiting for possible destructive behavior.

She wore the plain dressings of a patient: a light blue pajama looking outfit. She did not have the glossy lips like the time at the park. In fact, she had no make-up on at all. Her face was framed by her long straight hair. The cut on her wrist had healed but it left behind a scar.

"You," she said, although, it was more like a harsh whisper. I immediately knew she would not run from the room; at least, not yet. "You."

"Please have a seat." I motioned towards one of the chairs that were scattered about the room. My office was also my "testing" area. The room had a bed-like couch as well as two big (and comfortable) chairs that surrounded a small coffee table. There was also a small corner of the room that allowed two people to play any board game there was. I mostly used it for chess or checkers; it was a great way to test the mind of a patient's ability to reason and strategize.

I should have known that she would not sit. She grew stiff by the door and simply glared at me. I walked over to her and put my hand on her shoulder, to try and comfort her; but it had the opposite effect. She threw my arm off her and gave me a quick slap to the face. I didn't expect the blow and stepped back with my hand to my cheek.

I chose a chair and sat in it, still looking at the girl. It was then I looked at my charts and read her name. Lily Donner. A sudden curiosity struck me if she was related to any of the famous Donner Party, but I bit my lip to prevent my asking.

"You," she repeated. Every time she said the word she said it with more harshness. Lily walked over to where I sat and slapped my other cheek. Her hate filled eyes were now pouring with tears. Her knees gave out and she fell on the floor, but did not faint. "You…"

Lily had turned her eyes to the floor while she kept saying "you" over and over. I was tempted to get a nurse to drug her so she would be more relaxed, but this weird meeting felt like it could help solve her problems.

After awhile, she finally stopped speaking and fell silent. She hugged her knees and buried her face in her arms. In all my years of working at that institution I have never encounter someone like this. Of course, I never had a patient who I had saved from certain death either.

For most of the hour we sat in silence. When there was only ten minutes left Lily looked up from when she sat. She stood up and walked over to the window in a dreamlike way, swaying back and forth, back and forth. I thought she would fall over for sure; but she didn't. It was then she said two words that would be forever engraved into my head.

"Thank you."