When it was the next day, I was back in my office; I had fallen asleep doing God knows what. All I could remember of the night before was being in Lily's room and us kissing. It was then I remembered that Georgia would be in hysteria. She would assume the worst and what really made me shiver was the feeling that the worst had happened.

I knew what I had to do and began filling out the papers to have her transferred to another psychiatrist. It would be too risky to be with her if anything did happen. When I was almost through filling that form out, the door to my office opened; it was Lily.

"I thought you would still be here."

I looked at her. She looked completely beautiful (and sane, I must add) in the morning sun. "How did you get here?" There was no way for any of the patients to leave their rooms and it was too early for the nurses to escort them anywhere.

"You left the door open last night. I didn't realize it until the sun woke me up." She walked up to one of the seats and sat down. "Besides, I wanted to see you." I glanced at the clock: 6:07. I could see this situation getting quickly out of hand.

"You should go back to your room." Anger flashed through her eyes but then they were filled with hurt.

"Oh." She looked around the room, probably trying to hold back tears. Lily abruptly stood up and stared at me with her cold eyes. "This is the problem with you…men." She slammed her fist on the desk and started to cry. Her eyes wondered to the picture frame and she quickly grabbed it. "This…is this the problem? Is she what is holding you back?"

I apologetically looked at her. "I can't ruin this marriage. It's all she has left."

This is when my fears began to take flight. She stopped crying and actually smiled. She walked up behind me and put her arms around my neck. Leaning close to my ears she whispered: "That hasn't stopped you before."

I could feel the blood draining from my face and a shiver run up my spine. She slipped her hands through my hair and walked silently out of the room. I was in such a state of a shock that I didn't hear the phone ring.

I never picked up that phone call, and whoever it was didn't bother to leave a message or call back later. The rest of the day was a blur of patients and paperwork. I somehow got behind on my paperwork and had to stay late. Georgia would be furious so I was anxious about calling her. I remember looking at the clock and reading that it was 8:01 PM.

The entire day I avoided Lily. Another psychiatrist met with her that day and would be meeting with her for the rest of the time she stayed at Memorial Lane. Right then, it hit me that I couldn't work there anymore. I had been trying to quit for over two months and I finally had a legitimate reason. Georgia would be pleased to know so I quickly grabbed the phone and dialed home.

Ring…ring…ring… I think I waited two minutes before I hung up. We don't have an answering machine so the phone just kept ringing. She either was sleeping or had gone out for something. At the time, it didn't really bother me, so I just began to pack up. I decided to do one life changing thing; say goodbye to Lily.

"As I was walking down the hall to Lily's room, I blacked out. And when I finally came to it, I was here, in this hospital."

I knew that the detective wouldn't believe me. "So that's your story. You blacked out?"

I nodded. "Why would I lie to you?" Actually, there was every reason to lie to him. He had the power to judge if I'm guilty or innocent. And I knew that my story made him think I was guilty like all hell. The air grew thick with suspicion and silence while the detective scribbled on his little notebook.

"I can't say much, but be prepared for an intense examination of your story." The detective stood up and shook my hand. Without a word he turned to leave me in the hospital.

"Don't forget." I said as he left the room. "We made a deal." The detective waved his hand in acknowledgment and then he was gone. Who knew if I was going to see him again; as I contemplated the future, I slipped into unconsciousness and dreamed about Lily and Georgia.

It was a very vivid dream. Lily was looking even more beautiful than ever. She was dancing around in a field of flowers, singing some unknown tune. Her hair swung with the breeze and her icy blue eyes had melted to a soft sky blue. I began to run towards her with my arms outstretched, like in some love story. But I never made it to Lily. There was a click and I was now away from the field of flowers; it was replaced with a rocky surface. I tripped on something hard and fell on Lily's dead body. Her eyes were open in shock with the blood dripping from the bullet wound in the center of her forehead. I shrieked in horror and saw a shadow. It was Georgia, with the single bullet wound on the side of her head. She smiled and collapsed to reveal another body. This person was a silhouette of a man. As he raised his hand, I saw the caliber colt 45. I heard the gun shot and woke up.

The days that followed were long and dreary. My last day in the hospital I overheard the doctor's comment on my full recovery. I laughed silently to myself. Who are they to say if I made a complete recovery?

I was released that very day. As the taxi cab drove up, I knew that everything was going to go downhill. I stepped into the yellow cab and started to go home. While being in the hospital, I missed both of the funerals for Lily and Georgia. I felt a tear slide down my check as the car stopped in front of my house. I was unsure who the tear was for. It was a bittersweet sight. I was thankful to be out of the sterile hospital but dreading the emptiness of the house.

I stepped inside and sat on the first thing I could find. It was a couch that I ended up spending so many nights on. No sooner did I sit down than the doorbell began to ring. I wiped away the tears and opened the door. There stood a police officer with sunglasses over his eyes. "Good afternoon Doctor." I nodded. "I'll get straight to the point. You are wanted at the station for questioning about the murder-suicide case."

I followed the officer to his vehicle very solemnly. The drive was consumed by silence. When I arrived to the station, I was escorted to what looked like the interrogation room. "What's this all about?" I was now getting nervous.

"Have a seat, Doctor." I took the metal chair and sat down, expecting the worse. It was then the detective that had asked for my story came into the room. He sat down on another chair and pulled out a manila folder. "Hello again."

I simply waved my hand. My nerves were about to take flight. What was so important to drag me all the way down here?

"We examined the bullets that were used in all the shootings. And upon examination, we came across something interesting. The bullets that were found in Lily were not from the caliber colt 45. This means, another gun with different bullets was used. However, the bullets in the 45 were the same in both yours and Georgia's wounds." I stared in disbelief. Another gun? But the detective had more to say, and show. He brought out a gun that was placed in a plastic bag. It was labeled: Evidence B. "This is a 9mm revolver. This gun was found outside the room; it was thrown out of the window." The detective stood up. He circled around my chair, making me even more nervous. "What I want to know, Doctor," he paused when he reached back to his starting point. He stared into my eyes with the hardest look and asked so gravely, "Which gun is yours? The 45 or the 9mm?"

I was shocked, to say the least. The only thing I could mutter was, "I want my lawyer."

"The evidence is in. You cannot hide from your fate." He motioned the other officers in and started to read my rights. I was going to jail.

The next few days were blurred with court dates, evidence and a $100,000 bail. On the fifth day of jail, I asked to speak with the detective that had interviewed me. I was escorted to the visiting room where I sat, waiting for the detective to come. Other inmates were talking to their lawyers or loved ones through the glass plated walls with their voices traveling through a wire.

When he arrived, I was anxious and nervous. He picked up the phone and spoke. "What do you want doc?"

I smiled. "Hello to you too."

The detective wasn't humored and scowled. "Please don't waste my time."

"Oh, I would never want to do that. It's time for you to do me that favor."

He looked at me without blinking. "What do you want?"

I took a deep breath and got serious. "I want to visit my house. Just to go there for a few hours. I think there might be something there to prove my innocence."

"Then tell me where to find it, and I'll make sure it makes it to the evidence."

"But I can't do that. It would only take a few hours and you can escort me to my house. Please, this is important."

The detective sighed and put his hand to his forehead. "I'll see what I can do." He hung up the phone and with a nod of his head, he left the room. I was escorted back to my cell to only hope and pray that my favor could be completed.

I fell asleep only to be woken up around 7 at night. A prison guard opened my cell and spoke unnecessarily loud. "Your bail was made." He escorted me to a room where I was given back my things. When I reached the exit, there stood Mr. Brown Eyed detective. "Come on. We don't have all night." He turned to leave, but hesitated. "I expect to get every penny back I just spent." I smiled, knowing that he would one way or another.

We drove silently to my house. As we pulled up, I finally broke the silence. "Would you mind letting me go in alone?"

The detective sat mulling over my request. "I will let you in the house, but I want that front door open and all the lights on and the shutters open. I still don't trust you alone." Seeing that I was going to protest he added, "I made bail, so I get to name the terms. It's this or I go in with you."

I agreed and stepped out of the door. As I opened my front door, I turned on all the lights I could find. I then went to all the windows to open the shades. Even though I couldn't see him, I know he could see every move I was making. It gave me a slight chill to think about that.

The first thing I wanted to find was my wife's stock pile of magazines. It didn't take long; they were next to her favorite couch. I pulled out a few to read the titles. People, Time, and Readers Digest were just a few in the pile. But none of the titles that were in Lily's room were there. I searched the kitchen, and I found none. So unless I somehow forgot that I brought those magazines, there was no way that I could have given them to Lily.

It was when I came to that I heard a thump come from upstairs. Being the curious person I am, I slowly made my way upstairs, forgetting the fact that the detective was outside watching my every move. As I reached the top, I heard the floor boards creak. There was someone inside my house. "Hello?" Nothing. "Come out and show yourself!"

The door to my room slowly opened, revealing darkness. A person with common sense would have run downstairs where a cop sat waiting and tell that an intruder was inside the house. But not I. I entered the room and turned on the lights.

There sat a man, sitting on my bed. He was a middle aged man with a beer belly and a balding head. The man slowly got off the bed and made his way to the window. "Who's outside waiting for you?" His voice was deep and harsh.

I cleared my throat. "A detective. I'm proving my innocence." The man gave a deep laugh. "Who are you? Why are you in my house?!"

Again, the man laughed. "Who am I? I am Lily's uncle!" My jaw dropped. "I am the man from Lily's 'dreams.' I brought those magazines to her. I was the one who coached her to knock you out and drag you back to your office. I told her to make you fall in love with her."

"Why would she agree to this?" I pictured Lily as an innocent bystander. Thinking about her having such evil intentions made my stomach drop to my feet. Everything was getting heavy. The air was thick, and I felt like the pressure in the room just accelerated. But I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"Why? Because, she's not just my niece! She's my love!" My stomach was no longer at my feet. It was now stuck in my throat, ready to explode at any minute. "Lily, my Lily, was teased and abused, just like me. We are the same. Our love was more than a common person's. It was special." Thoughts of Lily and this man being together circled my mind.

He must have seen the disgust on my face, because he smiled. "Yes, think about it. I want the image to be burned in your head. She was more than happy to do the things I asked because she knew what it was like to be abused!"

"But, why do all of this?" My head was swimming; had this entire thing been a set up?

"Fool! Because you did nothing for me!" He paused and turned towards me. "Don't you remember Little Johnny? He suffered from what you diagnosed as depression. You drugged him up and set him on his way. You never bothered to figure out why!"

Little Johnny. The name rang a bell but I couldn't remember him as a patient. "You… you were the one that ruined my life! It was because of you that I had to stay with my father! It was because of you that I was abused to almost certain death! And now, it's because of you that my niece, my Lily, is DEAD!" He was crying now. He punched a hole in my wall. "Oh God!"

I wanted to leave the room. Every impulse inside of me was screaming to leave. But my legs couldn't move. "You killed Lily? You killed my wife?!" I screamed at him. A small voice was reminding me that the detective was waiting outside and could possibly hear my voice.

"No…no…no" Johnny put his hands to his head and collapsed. "I had waited in the room, waiting for you to enter. I had told Lily to lure you back for around 8 o'clock that night. She must have gotten caught and wasn't able to return until that time. I told her not to come back to the room. But she came back. I had a silencer on my gun and opened fire on her, thinking she was you! I killed her!"

Tears were flowing down from my cheeks as well. "What about my wife? What about Georgia!"

He wiped away his tears. "When you entered the room, I knocked you out. I decided that Lily's death wouldn't be in vain if you were sent to jail for her murder. I left that room, throwing the gun out the window. I can only imagine that your wife asked the secretary where you went and found you knocked out with the dead girl. She was probably so outraged that she shot you, and then herself. It's too bad your wife didn't kill you!"

So it was Georgia who shot me. And she killed herself. Was she really that unhappy? The death of two innocents was my fault? "No!" I screamed. "This isn't my fault. This is your fault. I never pulled the trigger!"

Johnny swaggered over to where I stood. He whispered so softly that I could hardly hear him. "You don't need to pull a trigger to kill."

I expected him to pull out another gun and to shoot me there on the spot. But he didn't. He left me alone in the room. Everything in my mind began to blur. The pain inside my heart was growing and growing. Without thinking, I grabbed a tie, and a pad of paper. As my vision blurred while I waited for death, I imagined the detective's face as he read my note:

You don't need to pull the trigger to kill.

There's nothing this world can fulfill.

To Hell I'm sent and forever remain.

Best of luck for the mentally insane.