I dortored in a psychiatric ward for almost 2 years before i left because something really weird happened

.<br><br>I wasn’t an actual doctor at the time, I was what they called an “Extern”. An extern is a psychology student who works in a hospital in a capacity similar to an intern, but doesn’t get paid. I took the position because I was told it would look good on applications for jobs/further education, plus it would be a good learning experience. And it was. I learned a lot, and despite the occasional episode of a patient having a breakdown, or fist fights with the orderlies, it was actually a pretty enjoyable time for the most part. Almost everyone I met was really nice, and the staff was very tight knit. <br><br>There was one thing that stuck with a few of the nurses and orderlies, however. They appreciated me, and they made sure I knew that by bending a few rules for me. For example, I think one of the nurses had been reprimanded multiple times for looking at the wrong patient’s files. I could understand why she did it, patients can do some pretty horrible things to get in where they are. But, I digress. Those same nurses were more than happy to show me whatever I wanted to see without the official paperwork that my superiors would have had to otherwise sign. I took them up on that a couple of times. I was allowed access to the majority of the hospital, excluding the more dangerous wards, but I could still see the patient files for those areas with the proper approval from the proper people. I wasn’t really interested in the more violent patients for the most part, I more wanted to see the very strange patients. <br><br>One patient in particular I saw was a young woman, she couldn’t have been older than 22 or 23. She had been admitted because she went the entire length of her college career without saying a single word to anyone. Apparently she would go to all of her classes, go to the cafeteria, the library, the bookstore, and the only way anyone even knew she was there was that she sat in the same seat every day. She had a part time job at the campus gas station, and she would only nod and smile when someone paid or asked a question. Apparently she got very good grades, but her parents were worried because she never responded when they called her. She didn’t seem otherwise physically or mentally harmful, but her parents wanted her to get checked out anyway. I thought it was very weird, but also kind of cool. I made a mental note of it, and moved on with my day. <br><br>Fast forward about 13 months, and I was walking past the rooms where patients stayed. None of the patients on this floor were particularly violent, they were all just strange, and/or required some sort of special attention. As I walked by one of the rooms I saw a familiar face - it was the silent college girl. I stopped and talked to her for a minute, and I asked her how she was doing, if she liked her room, her doctors, and if she was taking her meds. She didn’t answer a single one of my questions. After asking her the questions I started to walk away, and I heard a voice behind me. “You’re the first person to talk to me since I got here”. I stopped and turned around, and it was the silent girl. She was talking to me. I asked her what she meant, and she repeated what she said. I was the first person she had talked to in almost a year, and it was to me of all people. <br><br>The two of us talked for almost an hour. Her name was Katy, and we talked about what she liked to do for fun. She told me about some of the other patients she had met, and she asked me about what classes I was taking. I told her about the nurses who had access to my own student records, and how they had shown me her file. Katy was very understanding about the whole thing, and wasn’t mad at me at all. <br><br>Once my hour with Katy was over, I went to tell the head doctor about what had just happened. He didn’t believe me, but he went up to her room after I went home to verify what I had told him. He came back the next morning with news that Katy had not only talked to him, she had been very articulate and logical in their conversations. He asked me to go talk to her, and see if I couldn’t get her to open up a little more. <br><br>I happily agreed, and soon I was spending most of my day talking to Katy about various things. I told her about my childhood, and she told me about hers. After a few weeks of talking, Katy had progressed from my job, to an actual full-blown internship in the psychology department. She was, of course, still a patient at the hospital, but she was no longer confined to a single floor or room. She was actually helping out some of the doctors, and in many cases, she had a better insight into a patient’s mind than even the doctors did. <br><br>I know it might have seemed ethically questionable, or wrong even, but the two of us technically weren’t doctor/patient. I was an extern, and she was, well, she wasn’t being treated for anything anymore. She was an employee more than a patient, and technically she was my equal. She was also the only person at the hospital who knew more about psychology than I did at the time, so she made a great study partner. And, of course, there was the whole friendship thing. I don’t know if she felt the same way, but in the time I got to know her, I think I might have fallen in love with her. <br><br>But, my story has a dark ending, and it has to do with the entirety of a conversation we had one night. Katy was helping me study for one of my exams, and she was quizzing me on various terms and methods. But, she stopped herself, and she got this weird look on her face. After a minute of her sitting silently, she asked me a question. “Do you believe in things you can’t see? Do you believe that there are things in this world, or other worlds, that you can’t see or touch, but you still know they’re there?” I told her I did, and gave her a few examples. I told her about work, and the nurses who had access to my records. I told her about a few of the patients whose files I had seen. I told her about an invisible friend I had as a kid. And I told her about the feeling you sometimes get when you’re driving and you feel like someone is following you, even though you can’t see anyone. She listened to all of my examples, and she kind of chuckled at the last one. She didn’t respond to any of them, and I could tell she was still deep in thought. After a minute or two she stood up and said goodbye, and walked out of the room. <br><br>I was really confused, and I didn’t see her again until the next day. When I did, it was like our conversation had never happened. She went back to quizzing me, and she didn’t bring anything up about what she had asked me the night before. I let it go, but I never forgot that look on her face. <br><br>About two weeks after that, Katy went missing. She didn’t show up to any of her duties, and she wasn’t in her room. There was a massive search for her, but she was never found. I like to think that, of all the things a person can’t see, she managed to find something that made her happier than any of us could ever hope in making her. <br><br>This is the last thing I have to say about the whole thing. I left the hospital shortly after she disappeared. I received a call from one of the doctors a month or two after I left. He told me he found something, and he thought I would be very interested in seeing it. When I arrived at the hospital, he took me to the room where Katy had been staying. When he opened the door, there was a piece of paper taped to the light on the ceiling. It had a note, written in black marker, addressed to me. I never had the nerve to read it, I just folded it up and put it in my pocket. I left the hospital that day, and never went back. <br><br>I don’t know what the note says. Right after I put it in my pocket I realized I didn’t want to know. There was something about the whole thing that was too unusual, too strange to deal with. I don’t know what it is, but something about it all doesn’t sit right with me. <br><br>That was about 4 years ago. The note is gone now. I moved out of my apartment, and when I was packing I found the note. I must have forgotten about it at the time, because I have no other idea where I could have put it. <br><br>I didn’t read it before I threw it away though.