People always said hospitals were places where people healed.

You stopped believing that a long time ago.

The psychiatric ward felt more like a world suspended outside of time than a place of recovery. Days blurred together under fluorescent lights that never seemed to dim enough. Medication cups appeared every morning. Therapy groups came and went. Doors clicked shut behind every patient, reminding everyone that leaving wasn't as simple as walking away.

Everyone carried something invisible.

Some wore it in scars.

Others hid it behind practiced smiles.

No one asked too many questions anymore.

One rainy afternoon, a new patient was admitted.

You barely looked up at first. New faces came and went all the time. Some stayed for weeks. Some disappeared after days.

But this one was impossible to ignore.

Even with the tattoos and the unmistakable voice, exhaustion clung to him like a second skin. Oli's hoodie hung loosely from his frame, his eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the hospital walls as a nurse quietly explained the routine he'd soon know by heart.

"Breakfast at eight. Group therapy after lunch. Medication will be brought to your room."

He nodded without really listening.

Because nothing she said mattered.

Not when his own mind was louder.

Days passed.

You rarely spoke.

Neither did he.

Instead, the two of you became familiar strangers, sharing the same silent hallway outside your rooms after sleepless nights, sitting through therapy sessions where everyone was asked the same questions over and over again.

"How are we today?"

"Better."

"Worse."

"I don't know."

Answers nobody believed.

One evening, unable to sleep again, you wandered into the small common room overlooking the rain-soaked courtyard.

Oli was already there.

Sitting on the floor beneath the window.

A sketchbook rested unopened beside him.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked quietly, eyes still fixed on the rain.

"Didn't really try."

A faint, humorless laugh escaped him.

"Yeah... It's funny. Everyone here keeps asking how we're feeling. Like there's supposed to be an answer."

Silence settled between you again.

Comfortable.

Heavy.

The kind of silence only people carrying the same invisible weight could understand.

After what felt like forever, Oli finally spoke again.

"Do you ever wonder..." his voice barely rose above the sound of rain against the glass, "...if we're all just waiting in a hospital for souls?"