They Sent Me to an Asylum, Then Cried for My Mercy

The emptiness in my arms sent me into a spiral of panic. My hands scrambled over the cold floor as I crawled toward the blood-stained pillow, my breath hitching. Tears blurred my vision as I cradled it close, whispering, "It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy will protect you." Before I could curl around it, shadows loomed over me. My four brothers. Their presence blocked out the harsh flashes of cameras, but not the suffocating weight of their judgment. "Kaitlyn! You’re still thinking about that bastard? After everything? You should be grateful we sent you for reform, but no, you’d rather sulk like a victim!" Yohan, the eldest, didn’t wait for a response. His boot slammed into my chest, knocking me backward. Pain shot through my ribs and the sickly taste of blood filled my mouth before I choked and spat it out. It splattered onto the pillow, merging with the red already smeared across my forehead. Yohan froze for a second, then scoffed. "Wow. Kaitlyn, seriously? Blood packs now? What, trying to put on a show for us? Guess we didn’t punish you hard enough last year." The crowd buzzed with murmurs. "I wonder who the mystery man is. Must’ve been something special to make the great Kaitlyn Stafford throw everything away." The words slithered through the air like poison. I could feel the weight of their pitying stares shifting toward Carter, my ex-husband, the man I had supposedly betrayed. His expression hardened, his disgust palpable. A chill ran down my spine. I knew that look. Carter was about to lash out. And if I didn’t act fast, I would be the one paying for it. I swallowed back the blood pooling in my mouth and forced myself up, bowing my head low in submission. My voice was shaky, desperate. "I was wrong. I shouldn’t have seduced him. I deserve to be punished. Just… just don’t hit me. Do whatever you want, just let me go." The words felt distant, automatic. My hands trembled as they moved, mindlessly pulling at the fabric of my own clothes because wasn’t that what they expected? Wasn’t that what they wanted? To see me reduced to nothing? But the truth was, I didn’t even know who this so-called man was. I didn’t know why my parents had suddenly died. I didn’t know why my son was cast aside like a mistake. I didn’t know what I had done to make my sister turn her back on me. Carter grabbed my wrist, stopping me cold. His grip was like iron, his eyes filled with rage and something even worse; contempt. "Kaitlyn, a year later and this is what you’ve become? Pathetic." He pulled a tissue from his pocket and wiped his hand as if touching me had left him dirty. Then, he smirked, sharp and cruel. "And you really think you deserve mercy?" The four brothers finally snapped out of it, their faces dark with determination. "Since you still don’t get it, we’ll just have to remind you ourselves." Their voices overlapped, sealing my fate. Carter walked over to the car, popped the trunk and pulled something out, something he had clearly prepared in advance. Then he turned to the cameras, his voice steady and cold. "Once the livestream hits a million viewers, we begin." My stomach clenched. So this was their plan all along. They weren’t just here to take me back, they had a whole punishment mapped out, ready to play out in front of a live audience. And the crowd ate it up. The numbers shot up in real time, comments flooding in, urging them to start. To put on a good show, Yohan stepped forward, smirking like he was about to reveal some grand secret. "Kaitlyn, since you’re struggling to remember what you did, let me refresh your memory." His words sent a chill down my spine and just like that, it all came flooding back. The fire. The screams. The twisted wreckage. The day my parents died, they had been on their way to my brother’s party. Just a normal drive. No warning, no signs, until their car suddenly lost control, swerving straight into a roadside guardrail. Then, boom. The fuel tank ruptured. Fire exploded from the wreckage, engulfing the entire car. Thick smoke rose into the night, flames swallowing everything in sight. They were trapped inside. They pounded against the windows, their screams drowned out by the roar of the fire. And then, a recording played. Not just any recording, theirs. Their final, agonized screams, raw and unfiltered, filling the air. My breath caught. My hands shook. Winona recorded this. She stood there, listening, while my parents burned alive. The sounds cut through me like a blade. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was useless. I could see them. Their scorched faces, twisted in pain. Their hands, pounding desperately against the glass. Their fear, their agony, their betrayal. And all I could do was relive it. Over and over again.

No matter how many times I’d heard that recording, I could never get used to it. I still couldn’t accept it. I still couldn’t believe my parents were gone. Their deaths left a wound in me that would never heal. But the worst part, everyone thought I was to blame. They believed I had tampered with the car. That I had murdered my own parents. And now, the entire world was watching, eager to see me pay for it. The live chat was going crazy, messages flooding in so fast I could barely keep up. Each one was like a knife to the heart. [Kaitlyn, you murderer! You should’ve died instead of them!] [Your parents must’ve committed some terrible sin to end up with a daughter like you.] [Stop acting innocent. You’re disgusting.] [You deserve every bit of what’s coming to you.] Their words burned into me, harsher than any wound. I wanted to tell them they were wrong. That I didn’t do it. That I would never hurt my parents. But what was the point? Nobody would believe me. To them, I was already guilty. I curled up on the ground, clutching the bloody pillow as if it were my last lifeline. Tears slid down my face, mixing with the blood on my forehead, dripping onto the pillow. "I’m sorry, Mom… Dad… I don’t understand why this is happening." Yohan’s voice cut through the air like ice. "Still playing the victim, Kaitlyn? You think looking pitiful will change anything? You killed our parents. You destroyed Winona’s life. Do you think you’ll escape punishment for that?" I looked up at him, my chest tightening. His face was stone-cold, but his eyes were full of hate. The number of viewers kept skyrocketing. The comments kept coming. They wanted a show. They wanted to see me suffer. For a split second, I wished I could just disappear. That I could close my eyes and never wake up. But I couldn’t. Because if I died, my son, the little boy they stole from me, would have no one left. He and I were both discarded, both unwanted. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. I didn’t have a choice. "Let’s begin," Carter said coldly. And just like that, the nightmare started. The four brothers surrounded me, their faces void of warmth. "Kaitlyn, what happened? No more crazy act? No more games? Beg for mercy!" Yohan’s voice dripped with mockery as he lifted a long, thin whip lined with barbs. He flicked it in the air, the sharp crack making me flinch. Step by step, he came closer. I tried to back away, but before I could, Julian, my second brother, grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me back. Pain shot through my scalp, sharp and blinding. "Where do you think you're going?" he taunted. "Isn't this what you wanted? Playing the victim, acting pitiful? Go ahead, keep pretending." Tears stung my eyes, but I swallowed them down. Crying wouldn’t help. Nothing would. "I was wrong… I was really wrong," I murmured, my voice trembling, repeating the words like they were some kind of shield. It didn’t matter. The whip cracked against my back, sending a white-hot wave of pain through me. My body lurched forward, a choked whimper escaping my lips. But I didn’t scream. I knew better than that. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood, forcing myself not to make a sound. If I cried out, they’d only make it worse. "What, you think a few fake tears will get you out of this?" Yohan scoffed. "Dream on." Another lash. And another. The pain was unbearable, every strike ripping through me like fire. "Tell them," Yohan’s voice was cold, emotionless. "Tell everyone what you did wrong." The whip came down again and all I could do was curl in on myself, bracing for the next.

The live chat exploded with excitement. "Say it! Tell everyone what you did wrong!" Jonah flicked on an electric baton, the sharp crackle of electricity filling the room. My body instinctively curled in on itself before the shock even hit. Then, agony. The pain shot through me like fire racing along my nerves, ripping a strangled gasp from my throat. My body convulsed, muscles seizing up as I choked out the words they wanted to hear. "I… I shouldn’t have killed our parents… I shouldn’t have hurt my sister." Sweat dripped from my forehead, stinging the open wounds on my face before mixing with the dried blood on the floor beneath me. "Again!" Another shock. More pain. More forced words. "I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have seduced other men… I shouldn’t have killed our parents… I shouldn’t have hurt my sister." My voice shook, but I said it. Every word. Just like they wanted. "Louder!" Judah, my fourth brother, didn’t wait for me to obey. He kicked me hard, knocking me off balance. I hit the floor face-first, my forehead slamming against the cold concrete. A fresh trickle of blood ran down my cheek. "I was wrong!" My voice cracked. "I shouldn’t have seduced other men! I shouldn’t have killed our parents! I shouldn’t have hurt my sister!" They shoved the camera closer, making sure everyone watching could hear me. A long time ago, I would’ve fought. I would’ve screamed, begged someone to believe me. But that girl was gone. They had shattered her. Destroyed her in ways that could never be undone. The first day in the mental hospital, they tried to break me. When I refused to say the things they wanted, they locked me in a pitch-black room crawling with snakes. I barely survived. Fevered, terrified, half out of my mind, I managed to escape to the infirmary. And that was when I made the mistake of hoping. While the doctor stepped away, I grabbed the phone with shaking hands. I called my brothers. Not one of them picked up. Desperate, I tried Carter. This time, someone answered. But the second I heard his voice, my heart sank. "Stop pretending. Just behave and fix yourself." Cold. Flat. Like I was nothing more than an annoyance. I tried to plead with him, to tell him the truth, but before I could say another word, I heard Winona crying softly in the background. She put on an act, pretending to beg for my sake. She didn’t blame me, she said. It was fine if she could never have children. At worst, she just wouldn’t get married and would spend the rest of her life alone. And Carter comforted her, soft and gentle, like she was something delicate. "I’ll take care of you forever," he promised. I actually believed him. Then their wedding announcement came and I realized, his idea of taking care of her meant marrying her. The memory made my mind wander, just for a second. With a crack sound, the whip struck again, cutting through what little feeling I had left. My body barely flinched. My lips moved on their own, repeating the confession drilled into me. "I was wrong... I shouldn’t have seduced other men... I shouldn’t have killed my parents... I shouldn’t have harmed my sister." Carter stood nearby, watching, his face completely blank. No pity. No hesitation. Just cold indifference. Then, suddenly, he spoke. "Kaitlyn, who’s the man that made you do all this?" A shiver ran down my spine. I slowly lifted my head, my eyes hollow and unfocused. "I... I don’t know..." "You don’t know?" His sneer sent a chill through me. He pulled out a small bottle, twisted off the cap and poured its contents over my wounds. The second it hit my skin, the burn was unbearable. Salt water. Chili extract. It seeped into every cut, setting my nerves on fire. My vision blurred, my breath caught in my throat and I gasped in agony. "Are you really going to play dumb?" Carter’s voice was cool, almost bored. "Whose bastard is it? How could you not know?" I had nothing left in me but pain. I choked out a sob, my voice barely a whisper. "I swear, I don’t know... please... just let me go." Yohan laughed under his breath. "Let you go?" he taunted. "You think you deserve that?" Julian stepped forward, his expression dark. He didn’t say a word, just yanked the pillow from my arms and tossed it aside like it was trash.

I lunged forward, desperate to grab the pillow, but Julian’s boot came down on my back, pinning me to the ground. "What, still clinging to that bastard?" He scoffed. "Do you really think you deserve to be a mother?" A cold dread crawled up my spine. Something was coming. Something worse. But I didn’t dare ask. "I was wrong... I was really wrong," I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. Tears blurred my vision, but I knew crying wouldn’t change anything. Nothing I said would make them believe me. The family that once swore to protect me had become my worst nightmare. I just wanted to survive. And I prayed they wouldn’t take it out on my son. But my worst fear was already happening. Carter’s voice was laced with mockery. "Kaitlyn, you’re this stubborn over some man, aren’t you?" I shook my head frantically. No. Please, not him. Carter didn’t buy it. He rolled down the car window and my heart stopped. There he was. The child I had thought about every waking moment. His tiny frame looked even smaller, too thin, too pale, his clothes tattered. But it was his face that shattered me. Fear. Confusion. A quiet kind of suffering no child should ever know. The moment he saw me, his little body trembled and tears welled in his eyes. "Mom—" "Shut up." Carter's hand struck him across the face, silencing him instantly. I couldn’t breathe. My ribs squeezed like a vice around my heart. ‘What has they done to him? How has they broken him so badly that even his cries died in his throat?’ I thrashed against Yohan’s grip, my instincts screaming louder than my fear. "Let me go!" I sobbed, fighting harder. "Please!" In my panic, I did the only thing I could, I sank my teeth into Yohan’s hand. He swore, yanking back and I bolted. I was so close. Just a few steps away. Then, Carter’s foot slammed into my stomach. The impact knocked me off my feet, pain exploding through my ribs as I hit the ground. "Still fighting back?" His voice was ice. Then, the real horror began. The live broadcast chat flooded with comments, cruel and relentless. [She deserves this! Let her suffer!] [Take everything from her, just like she did to them!] [That kid isn't innocent either. Get rid of him too!] A few voices tried to push back. [This is too much! He’s just a child!] [How can you punish a kid for his mother’s sins?] But they were drowned out in seconds, buried under an avalanche of hate and all I could do was watch. I looked at my son’s tear-streaked face and it felt like my heart was being ripped apart. He was so small, so helpless and yet he had to suffer through this. I tried to reach for him, but Carter shoved me back. I scrambled forward again, only to be kicked away. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t get close. His sobs grew quieter, his tiny frame curling in on itself. He squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying to disappear, like if he just made himself small enough, the world would forget he was there. I couldn’t take it. The pain, the helplessness, it crushed me. And then, everything went black. When I woke up, I was on the freezing basement floor, soaked to the bone. I could barely move. My body burned with fever, but the cold made me shiver uncontrollably. Another splash of ice water hit me. "Awake?" Yohan tossed the bucket aside, sounding almost bored. I parted my lips, my throat dry and raw. "My son... where is he?" The basement door creaked open. Winona walked in, cradling my crying child in her arms. "Kaitlyn," she murmured, "don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. ‘Why? Winona hates me. She always hated me. What game is she playing now?’ Winona sighed, her fingers gently running through my son’s hair. "I know you hate me," she said softly. "But he’s just a child. He doesn’t deserve this. Since you can’t be a mother anymore, let me adopt him. At least that way, he won’t have to suffer in an orphanage." Her voice was warm, almost convincing, like she actually cared. But I knew better. Winona wasn’t the type to show kindness without a reason. And right on cue, Carter and my brothers exchanged looks, moved by her supposed generosity. "Winona is so kind," Carter said, shaking his head as if he was actually touched. "Then we’ll grant her wish. But you, Kaitlyn, you still need to pay for what you’ve done." My stomach twisted. "Pay?" My voice came out shaky. "What do you mean?" Carter smiled and the hairs on my neck stood on end. "Your uterus," he said simply. "We’ll donate it to Winona so she can have a child of her own." They dragged me to the Stafford Family’s private hospital, tying me down like an animal. The doctor examined me, his brows furrowing before he let out an awkward cough. "Her uterus is not in a good condition," he admitted. "It’s too damaged from multiple miscarriages. There’s nothing we can do with it." For a moment, there was silence. Then Carter’s expression darkened. "Disgusting," one of my brothers muttered. "Even after being locked in a mental hospital, she was still spreading her legs for someone." Before I could react, Carter yanked me up and shoved me outside the operating room. My knees hit the cold tile, pain shooting up my legs. And that was when I saw him. Hayden Ziegler. The worst of them all. He was the one who made my life a living hell in the mental hospital. The one I feared the most. The moment his gaze landed on me, a slow, cruel smirk spread across his lips. "Well, well," he drawled. "If it isn’t Kaitlyn. Back in the hospital again? What is it this time? Another miscarriage?" Carter’s grip on me tightened before he shoved me even harder. "Kaitlyn," he sneered. "Is this the guy you’ve been running to?" Hayden laughed like the thought was ridiculous. "Please. You think I’d actually want her?" He turned to my brothers, grinning. "Honestly, you guys did us all a favor sending her to the mental hospital. Best damn entertainment we ever had. Watching the oh-so-mighty Miss Stafford on her knees, crying and begging like a dog? That was priceless."