"Patient 13" [Oliver Thredson X Reader]

Chapter 3: "What Brings You Here?"

The Year is 1964, Spring, Briarcliff Manor at Massachusetts

Oliver's POV

          The manor door swung open smoothly, alot more quieter in comparison to the office door I have. Looking down at my watch it read 7:55 a.m. meaning I needed to get to my office before 8 of the clock, and before the sister notices I'm not at my office. Adults know this, but if you are a minor in this case. According to working environment standards; on time is thirty minutes before the actual time you are required to be there. So, to put this into perspective; I was supposed to actually to be here, in my office, at exactly 7:30. Not eight.
          "I can see you're here on time¿" I hear Sister Jude state sarcastically and rhetorically at me while walking towards my direction; seeming as if she just appeared out of thin air. "Doctor Thredson, I know you arrival time is "supposed" to be 8 o'clock, but that actually means you need to be here, in your office, working at seven-thirty sharp." She continued on with her voice getting louder at points to try and further emphasize important parts to her sentence.
          I stood there, letting her ramble on about how I should know this already, and didn't my old job teach me this. She continued her rant for about five minutes straight. I would tell you what she said, but the truth is. I wasn't litsening to her the whole time. After standing there for about a minute. I decided there was nothing appropriate to say back, so I began to turn around slowly like the hands on a clock, and make my way to my office.
          "Do you understand, Dr. Thredson?" she asked with a tone of calmness but formality. She made me think of some principle rebuking a student for talking back to the teacher. I wanted to laugh alittle at the thought of that, but got forbid I did. Miss Sassy-Pants might just send me to the corner with a dunce cap or even just take away my meal time privileges. Continuing to think of these thoughts caused a small smirk to appear on my lips.
          I felt her eyes burning into the back of my neck as if she was branding my neck. The smile vanished from my face just as quickly as it appeared. I replied back with, "Yeah. I understand. It won't happen again." She thanked me nonchalantly and proceeded to walk back to wherever it is she came from.
          I continued to make my way back up to my office down the hallway. When I arrived there, I noticed a wooden golden brown plaque placed center of the doors' grainy textured glass. I brushed my fingers gently across my name, feeling the cool protruded lettering against my finger. It was quite smooth, and gave the door a nice touch.
          After examining and taking in all the details of the name plaque. I pushed open my office  door to hear the familiar creaking noise, yet again. I closed the door and made my way to my desk. It was my first official working day in the ward and I had to figure out what I was gonna do first. Then it hit me. I could schedule a session with that [Y/N] girl that I seem to "fancy" according to Sister Jude.
          Pushing back my chair, I bent over to the bottom right hand drawer of my desk to grab the file that I placed in there on the patient. I picked up the tanned folder, while using my foot to close the drawer it came from. A rustling loud thud rung out through the office for a second. Pulling my chair back, placing the folder on the desk, I grabbed and opened up the file.
         Examining the contents of the folder it showed a small mug shot of [Y/N] face on the top left hand corner. The picture was grainy and obviously of very poor quality. Her [H/L][H/C][H/T] hair down and behind her ears. She had this look on her face of utter agony. Anyone could have seen that she was not happy nor mentally ill enough to be in a horrible wretched place such as Briarcliff Manor. Right next to the picture was her name written in a smudged Special Elite font; made by some old typewriter. It read [Y/N][M/N][L/N], below it said she was 20 years of age, her gender, [Y/H], [Y/W], and etc. Most of the information was of her background, medications she takes, doctors who examined her, her schedule, activities she likes, and etc. Needless to say, everything on the document was of importance to me, but what really caught my eye was the diagnosis section. This was what I was originally looking for when I had first opened the file; the other stuff just so happen to derail me from my original course.
          I looked down, carefully examining the diagnosis section of the file. It read clinical depression, anxiety, nyctophbia and homosexuality. I laughed at the last one. Homosexuality. It really amused me how something so harmless as the same sex falling love gets shoved into a category such as "mental disorder" or "sick". The people that believe this clearly did not go to school for psychology at all; or else they would have properly known how to diagnose patients. This made me stop and think of a qoute that a famous person once said 'What we don't understand, we hate. What we hate, we destroy.' This saying fits perfectly for poor little Miss [Y/N] here.
          I decided I wanted to speak to this girl in person. Get a chance to know her and hopefully figure out the root of her issue and help with finding healthy coping mechanisms for her to use during her stay in this hell hole. I called in a loud, but quick way, the same gaurd that had led me to my office the first day and brought me the folder of the patient I plan to have my first session with.
          The door swung open quickly and the guard rushed in making his way over to my desk in a fast but still firm manner. His posture making me think of robots marching forward with long strides.
          "Yes Doctor? You had called for me." he stated in that same cooropertive soldier boy tone, while standing as straight as a statue with his arms at his side. His posture reminded me of the Buckingham palace guards, and how they would stand still and very straight. Imagining this, did make me wanna burst out laughing right then and there, but I couldn't due to there being more important business to be attended too at the moment.
          I looked up, my face focused intently and stated in a formal tone, "Bring me Miss [L/N] from her cell please." After stating my request I looked back down at my desk and grabbed a notepad and pen, so I could take notes to look back later after the session is finished.
         "Yes sir." the gaurd replied back to me while making his way to the door and towards the young girl's cell. I watched the door slowly shut behind him for a second, and then proceeded to go back to writing down the name of my patient on the top left hand side of the notepad.