I can’t make any of this up. None of my friends or family will believe me. They think I’m dreaming. You all will believe me, right???? I’m so scared, shocked, guilty, confused.
Three nights ago, I went to the Psych Ward with a group of camp members to volunteer in visiting the kids that were there and to give them some money that we raised. When we arrived, the nurse assigned me “Room 93”. Inside there was girl that was very lonely, she told me that the girl was horribly ill and they couldn’t do anything to save her, so they left her to her fate and didn’t bother visiting often as it was pointless. I felt bad, and I went in.
Room 93 was very vacant. No nightstand, no rug, no comfort. Just grey walls, a small window with a boring view of the rooftop nextdoor, a chair in the corner of the room, and a hospital bed with many machines and heart monitors. And in the bed, there she was. I didn’t know her name, but we talked, even if I was too afraid to at first. She told me things like how when nobody was with her, nothing mattered. But when I was there something did. She also hated being alone, how she was a prisoner to this ward and her fate, how she wished she was free. She also told me about how when people visit, it’s not often she will see them again, and how heart wrenching it is to see them walk out the door while she just lays there. And that’s how her abandonment issues started.
She begged me to please not leave, even after visiting hours. I couldn’t say anything, I didn’t know what to say. I felt as if I was too afraid to speak. So I only nodded at her request and sat in the chair that was provided at the corner of the room, for many hours until it was time to go. There were very few moments where I would stand and go to her, at one point she would talk about how loneliness got to her, and how she was always afraid of people visiting because she knew they’d leave. Once again, she begged me not to leave and that she didn’t wanna die alone. I could only nod again.
I felt horrible for her. A young teenager, so ill to the point no nurse nor doctor would go in and check on her. Her fate was actually sealed. There was no way out, even if there was a tiny chance. It was impossible. The only thing for her to progress was to die.
I stayed for 4 to 5 more hours, until I understood why the other visitors had left and how the girl felt. My entire camp had left me here in this hospital, I guess they forgot about me. I’d have to walk home. I was getting sick and bored of staying here, and everytime I walked up to the girl, she would only ask me to not leave, and I’d nod. It was a loop, and sometimes it felt like I was the one being abandoned in my deathbed and not her. I didn’t wanna leave her, but I couldn’t stay here forever.
Another hour had passed until I finally got up and went to the door, and she immediately called to me, asking where I was going and begged me to stay. It was too much. I couldn’t say anything to her. I didn’t want to. Cold sweat ran down my face as I grabbed for the handle, and she continued to beg me not to leave. She mentioned not wanting to die alone again, and I only heard a slight “I’ll miss you” as I left. But those were the last words I heard from her before I left the room.
When I came outside, the lights of the entire hospital were still on. My eyes flashed with colors as I had been sitting in a nearly dark room for hours, newly adjusting to the brightness. I noticed two of the nurses giving me looks of pity and unreadable discomfort, but they immediately walked away once I looked back at them. I was too tired to question it, so I just went for the front door, and walked home until my feet felt like they were about to fall off.
That night when I finally returned home, everything hit me at once. The guilt for leaving the girl there to her fate as if she already wasn’t dying, the thought of her having no one, the thought of her just being in that empty room. The opportunities she would’ve had if she never got sick. I decided I’d return to her the next day. Part of me wanted to get her out of there, but that part of me instantly shattered when I realized “that just wasn’t possible”.
I could barely sleep that night, all I could think of was the guilt and shame I had of leaving her. It was overwhelming, and if she was going to die alone because I couldn’t tolerate just falling asleep in a chair and staying until morning, I would be absolutely furious with myself.
I managed to get a few hours of sleep, but at 6 in the morning I woke up and rushed to the ward again. The receptionist only gave me a weird, disgusted look at why I was in such a panic. I explained to her I needed to go to Room 93 as soon as possible, and that I would be visiting every day from now on. The receptionist stared at me as if I was a bug, and I wanted to rush her even more until she told me something I’ll never forget.
“Sir, there is no Room 93 here.”