#Writing DarkAcademia Fiction Horror RP Roleplay JosephMorgan TherapistAnaDeArmas FanFiction

[henryskillerism]

Cordon Grey , ‘ Introduction

 As Written By EVENTIDE 

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

There was a running joke in undergrad that the people who chose psychology as their major, were only doing so in order to learn about their own illnesses.

Throughout the course of those four years, I came to believe that stereotype as I discussed personal lives amongst my peers.

The ones that continued past the collegiate level to further their careers were a much smaller class, and I went on to observe their behaviors (sometimes wondering if they were doing the same), and found myself utterly intrigued by the textbook disorders I was witnessing.

The only thing is, they were able to mask their symptoms much too easy due to the singular fact that all of our studies explained them in great detail.

Most called it quits after receiving a masters.

To have mastered a subject is quite an accomplishment, but only those of us sick enough pushed though until we signed M.D. after our names.

You see, that’s the tricky part about our society - the glitch, if you will.

Those of us trained to heal, taught to handle trauma with a calm demeanor, built to comfort those that are sick… we are the ones who need it the most.

Page Break 

My first 𝐩𝐞𝐭 was this sweet little brunette who had been diagnosed with borderline personality disorder soon after she turned eighteen.

I was assigned to her case when I assisted at the campus clinic, shadowing one of the therapists that taught an upper level course in psychology.

It was the final year of my bachelor’s, so I wasn’t allowed much (any, really) contact with the patients.

So, in true stalker fashion, I picked up on her habits and routines surrounding your weekly shrink visits.

And like most people - as I would come to learn over the years - she had very obvious patterns.

First being that she would always have a smoke after her session, regardless of how the conversation went.

One day, I got brave (I didn’t know how to speak to women back then; some would say I’ve grown into that), and asked her for a light.

I coughed when I inhaled the cigarette, a telltale sign that my lungs were not prepared. I hoped she didn’t notice that, along with a few other things.

I learned her name was Violet.

She was a freshman, states away from any family, and she hadn’t made any friends in her new city.

We started as friends;

She ended up in a large dog crate that I had shoved beneath the lifted twin bed in my dorm room.

I drugged her to keep her quiet, but we had many in depth conversations when she was conscious.

I was able to keep her for the entirety of the semester, without anyone catching onto our little secret.

She didn’t beg for her life - that’s why I let her go.

Sometimes I think about Violet and where she is in the world today.

Did you make it out there, little sadness?

Or did the pain get the best of you?

The second - a fiery redhead with a criminal record.

We crossed paths during my time volunteering at the local jail in my late twenties.

I was nearing completion of my masters and had to write a thesis based off my hands-on experience with the prison’s mental healthcare system, or lack thereof.

Explosive personality disorder.

There was a lot of anger trapped in such a small girl. It captured my attention the very first day.

I admired her from afar until her short sentence had been served.

But the day of her release, I made sure to request off.

I was waiting for her.

She was only rewarded with a few breaths of fresh air before she someone new’s captive.

By then, I had enough income to afford an apartment in the suburbs, which had a second bedroom I had prepared for her.

Admittedly, it was difficult to get her unconscious body up the two flights of stairs without any notice from the complex neighbors, but after that, everything went according to plan.

Amelia had layers. She wasn’t always so vicious.

And when put in the predicament she was in, her hard exterior crumbled after a few days with no food or water.

She told me of her childhood, her abusive mother, and the things that led her down a path of delinquency.

I felt.. sympathy for her, but I couldn’t name that emotion at the time.

I only knew I wanted no harm to come to her; so on the last day of the third month of her stay, I granted her freedom with a conditional threat of her life if she were to ever speak of this.

I believed her when she promised her silence.

I received an A on my thesis.

I owe that to you, Amelia.

And then came the third.

Lily.

She was my first patient scheduled at my newly open solo practice.

I liked her.. very much.

She was a writer; quiet and I never quite got her comfortable with me.

Unfortunately, my time with her was cut short.

I made an error when measuring the dose of sedative on the day of her taking and she seized to death in my arms before I could ever transport her out of my office.

I still have nightmares.

I wish I could’ve gotten to know you, Lily. 
Your likes and dislikes; the things that haunt your mind.

But now, you are just one of my ghosts. 

 Page Break 

“Dr. Grey, your 3pm appointment is here.”

I had picked up the phone in my office mid-thought. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.

However, if I were to defend my paranoia, I wouldn’t know where to start.

There was no tangible evidence to lead to my suspicions, but yet still, it consumed my thoughts.

“Sarah, I have asked you this many times. State the name of the patient when you are alerting me to their arrival.”

“Yes… Sorry, Dr. Grey. Ms. Tudor is here for her appointment.”

Ah, yes, my newest obsession. I had plans for you.

“You may send her in.” Click.

I didn’t give my ditzy receptionist enough time to respond before I hung up the phone. I didn’t take well to repeating myself and she had made me do so numerous times.

I opened my desk drawer to pull out a fresh notepad, catching a glimpse of Lily’s favorite pen, which I kept close by to remind me of my failures.

I would never make the same mistake again. She deserved a better doctor.

And that, I would be. For you, Henry.