The patients of Green Valley Asylum

Frozen Princess

The police found Lily Foster wandering in the forest near her home, her small frame swallowed by a torn princess dress, its once-bright colors faded and smeared with mud. Her pale hands were caked with dirt, her face expressionless, eyes wide and unblinking. She didn't scream, didn't cry, didn't speak. When the officers knelt beside her and asked where her parents were, she offered only a single sentence: "I had to put them to sleep."It wasn't until later, when investigators arrived at the Foster home, that they discovered the truth. Beneath the floorboards of the living room, in shallow graves, lay the bodies of Lily's parents. The scene was grim, but what haunted them most was Lily herself—so young, so fragile, and yet somehow unfazed by the horror that had unfolded in her home.
Dr. Mills sat at her desk in Green Valley Asylum, staring at Lily's case file. She had seen many children come through these doors—each with their own tragic stories, their own broken minds—but there was something deeply unsettling about Lily. She was only twelve, barely a child, yet she had orchestrated something so incomprehensible, so brutal. And still, she didn't cry. She hadn't shed a tear since the day she was found.The door to her office creaked open, and a nurse appeared in the doorway. "Dr. Mills, she's ready."Nodding, Dr. Mills stood, smoothing down her white coat before following the nurse down the long, sterile hallways to the room where Lily waited. As she approached, she saw the small figure seated on the bed. Lily's hands were folded in her lap, her brown hair tangled and unkempt, her eyes fixed on something unseen. The princess dress, now clean, still clung to her thin frame like a second skin. It seemed to be the only thing she cared about.Dr. Mills approached slowly, taking a seat across from her. "Hello, Lily. I'm Dr. Mills."Lily didn't respond. Her eyes remained distant, lost in a world far beyond the walls of Green Valley.Dr. Mills knew this would take time. Children who had experienced deep trauma often retreated into silence, into fantasy, when the real world became too overwhelming to face. She needed to tread carefully, to slowly unravel the threads of the world Lily had built for herself."I like your dress," Dr. Mills said gently. "Is it your favorite?"Lily blinked slowly, but said nothing."I hear you've been calling yourself a princess," Dr. Mills continued, watching for any sign of acknowledgment. "Can you tell me about your kingdom? What's it like to be a princess?"At this, something flickered in Lily's expression. Her eyes shifted slightly, as if Dr. Mills had brushed against the edges of her carefully constructed fantasy."I am a princess," Lily whispered, her voice soft and mechanical. "And they were my servants.""Your servants?" Dr. Mills asked, leaning in slightly. "Who are you talking about, Lily?""My parents," Lily said, her voice still eerily calm. "But they stopped doing their jobs. They weren't good servants anymore."
In the weeks that followed, Dr. Mills slowly pieced together the story of Lily's life. Her parents, Sarah and James Foster, had been wealthy, successful, and completely absorbed in their own lives. They had provided for Lily materially—her clothes were always expensive, her room filled with toys—but emotionally, they had been distant. They were always too busy with work, too preoccupied with their social lives to spend time with her. Lily had spent hours alone in her room, her only companions the dolls and stuffed animals that filled her shelves.Lily, in her isolation, had built herself a world where she was a princess—a powerful figure in control of her own life. In this world, her parents weren't her caregivers, but her servants, bound by duty to love and care for her. But as time went on, and her parents continued to neglect her, Lily began to see their actions as a betrayal. They weren't just neglecting her—they were failing their duties as her loyal subjects."They forgot I was a princess," Lily said one day, her voice cold and distant. "So I had to punish them."
Dr. Mills realized that Lily had retreated so deeply into her fantasy that the lines between her imagined kingdom and reality had blurred. In her mind, her parents' emotional neglect was more than just painful—it was a violation of the sacred order she had constructed. As a princess, she couldn't allow such disobedience to go unpunished. "I had to put them to sleep," Lily said again during one session, her small hands clasped tightly together. "They couldn't serve me anymore."Dr. Mills's heart sank. Lily wasn't using the phrase "put them to sleep" as a metaphor for calming or soothing. To Lily, death was simply a form of punishment for those who betrayed her—a final way to enforce her authority in the kingdom she had built.
The breakthrough came when Dr. Mills introduced Lily to a series of art therapy sessions. She gave the girl crayons and paper, encouraging her to draw her kingdom, her life as a princess. Lily's drawings were elaborate—castles with tall towers, guards and maids bowing to her, a throne where she sat, holding a golden scepter. But as the weeks went by, the drawings grew darker. The figures in the background—her parents—began to fade, until they were little more than shadows. In the final drawing, they were buried under the floor of the castle, just as they had been in real life."It's all clean now," Lily said, looking down at her final drawing. "Everything is how it should be."Dr. Mills watched her carefully, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Lily had created this world as a defense mechanism, a way to protect herself from the crushing loneliness and neglect she had experienced. But in doing so, she had lost herself entirely in the fantasy, and now, it was the only thing keeping her sane. The fantasy had been her armor, her way of making sense of a world that had abandoned her. And in her mind, her parents' deaths weren't an act of violence, but a necessary correction—a way to maintain the order of her kingdom.
As the sessions continued, Dr. Mills realized that breaking through to the real Lily—the child buried beneath the fantasy—would be a long and painful process. Lily's world of make-believe was the only thing keeping her from collapsing under the weight of her trauma. And while she could help her, Dr. Mills knew that the road ahead would be long, and Lily's journey back to reality would be filled with unimaginable challenges.But as she sat across from the girl, watching her draw castles and princesses, Dr. Mills knew one thing for certain: somewhere, buried deep within that kingdom, was a little girl who had once just wanted to be loved.