The Dreamer

~~~

She was found, lying in the bathtub, immobile and lifeless.
Her wrist was cut, with a kitchen knife. The tub filled with her blood.
No one knows where the knife came from. Patients at the psychiatric unit are not allowed near knives and other sharp, metallic objects. But the patients are allowed to bring their belongings with them.
Daisy probably hid her knife within her clothings. And somehow deceived the metal detector.
She had induced psychosis from a young age. It got worse over time and by the time she was 23, she lost her memory and most of the memories she had from her childhood were distorted. She recalled correctly till the day she took an overdose, but after that, she remembered nothing. Her memories had been distorted from there.

Schizophrenics are usually not suicidal but Daisy, was apparently, an exception.
But cases of suicide related to hallucinations have been reported in the past, so I'm assuming this was something of the sort.

She would call out a name in her sleep. Austin. She'd even say this name out loud when she was awake. She'd talk to her imaginary friends and it seemed Austin was one of them.
But that was a really small amount of time. She'd usually get really violent when awake and so, she was sedated most of the time. She was being medicated with Haloperidol and Risperidone, both in high doses.
Which is why she'd remain in a semi-conscious state most of the time.

She was sleeping a bit longer than usual today. She didn't get up for breakfast, nor for lunch. She got up in the evening, in her usual disheveled, semi-conscious state and requested me to let her use the bathroom. Alone.

She said she hadn't taken a bath recently, which was true.

As her psychiatrist, it had been my duty to not let her go in there alone. There are nurses who take patients to bathrooms, toilets and even feed them.
But she wanted to go alone. To the one upstairs. The one that has a bathtub in it and is usually reserved for less serious patients and they're often allowed to have a bath there, in supervision of a nurse, as a form of reward for good behavior.
But. I don't know why but I allowed her. Probably because I had no idea she'd be sneaking a kitchen knife with her.
The blame's on me. I may or may not get fired.

By the way, I found two diaries in her room today, among other things. She'd write diaries whenever she'd feel a bit better, a bit more stable.

She titled one of them as The Dream Journal.(I was expecting something like this. Most patients called Daisy 'The Dreamer'. I also heard Daisy once mention Austin as 'The Brother'.) The other as Austin's Diary.

Daisy had literally created a world of her own.

I'll come to know who Austin was today.

The End