Romie Llewellyn: Getting Away with Murder

It is fairly common for me to get an uncomfortable expression when I mention I spent my summer interning in the Psychiatric department of the hospital. The Psych/Behavioral health department is typically not very appealing to most people, but I was intrigued. I was interested in the stories I could experience, the lessons I could learn, and the impact I could make on mental health. Two months of my internship was over and I thought I had seen just about everything. By this Tuesday, I had spent hours in the hospital and seen several examples of psychotic disorders and diseases, but no one had prepared me for what was going to happen next.

By 9:00 am I was sitting in the treatment team reviewing the patient’s cases that, as the healthcare staff, we were going to see today. Treatment team is where we assess discharges, go over treatment plans, and ensure everyone is on the same page for the wellbeing of our patients. Following this meeting, we began rounding and seeing patients. This particular Tuesday included psychosis, borderline personality disorder, bipolar disorder, and more.

At about 10:30 am, I was pulled out of rounds into a quick meeting with the Operations Director of Behavioral Health and the supervisor. What I heard next sent a tingle up my spine and a fear I had never imagined. The director told me that a patient at a hospital, about an hour away, had confessed to murder. Every single thought and emotion swarmed around in my mind. Is there a serial killer living here? I am scared. Was it an accident? Is it really true or are they crazy? What is going on?

At this point, all we knew is that a patient had confessed to murder and a psychiatric evaluation was necessary. The hospital this patient was at had no psychiatric department, so we were the source for the eval. As the meeting progressed, the director asked me if I would be ok assisting the supervisor in the evaluation and helping to gather information on the case. The gears were turning and I truly think every possible scenario played out in my mind. Am I going to have to search for bodies? Should I do this? It will be a good learning experience. But what if they attack me? Is it true? Is this going to be a waste of time? Am I in danger? Am I going to have to testify in a murder case? I thought I had seen everything. I took a deep breath and realized that an experience like this is once in a lifetime and will be something I can gain a wealth of knowledge from for the future.

By 11:15 am the supervisor and I were driving to the other hospital and talking about what we were about to walk into, the worst case scenario, and the best possible outcome. On one hand, we were thinking that we were going to show up to the hospital and the entire situation was going to be a fluke, but on the other hand we were discussing the next steps if this could be a missing serial killer. There was no way of knowing what might be behind those hospital doors and we were counting down the minutes until the drive was over.

My heart was beating about a million times a minute. What is happening?

It was about 12:30 pm when we arrived and met with case management. They were able to give us a rundown on the case. The patient’s diagnosis included brain cancer and an inability to speak. The patient was given days to live and was reliant on life-support machines. The patient’s confession stemmed from a dying wish for forgiveness.

The supervisor and I made our way up to the patient’s hospital room, while discussing our approach. At this stage, we were able to calm our emotions down a bit and realize that the patient no longer had the ability to become violent, but I still felt a pit in my stomach. Victims are dead. What is the chance he is faking it? Honestly, movie scenes kept running through my head of cases when hospital staff were threatened and patients became violent. Although nervous, I kept taking deep breaths and trusting the situation.

We introduced ourselves to the charge nurse, as well as the nurse on their case, and started our entrance into the room. After a detailed overview of where we came from and who we are, I gathered a clipboard with paper and a pencil and handed it to the patient.

At about 1:15 pm, the psychiatric evaluation began.

The first questions commenced and we kept them very simple. Emotions, upbringing, and family, are just some topics brought up to initiate another possible confession and to grow trust. As we asked questions, the patient wrote their answers down on a blank sheet of paper. Further into the conversation we dove into what they told the nurse earlier, their confession to six murders.

This is where the conversation took a dark turn. The nitty gritty details of the six deaths were now being exposed and here is how the story went:

This patient was part of a gang in Philadelphia during their younger years. The patient left their family and took on a violent and drug-ridden gang life. In the patient’s mid-twenties, they had been ordered to kill six different people. The patient admitted to gun violence, usage of a knife, and another more aggressive maneuver as well. The patient did not know the victim’s names, but knew they were involved in violent drug crimes. The patient had no recollection of where the victims had ended up. All the patient wrote is that they turned their life around after all of this occurred; they were asking for forgiveness before they no longer had a voice to tell their story. The patient continued to circle forgiveness and had written the words minister and faith. The patient’s path led them to become a minister and “restart” their life, before cancer took his life away.

Those blank sheets of paper were now full with a confession to murder. Words like knife and kill stood out on the page, while other phrases were circled or in all caps. I immediately became speechless. A feeling of shock that I had never felt sent chills through my body. I had just spoken to and heard a murder confession. Woah.

With no known information on the victims and an inevitable passing for the patient, there was not much to be done. We had heard the story of several murders and there was nothing we could do about it. The patient was going to be taken off life-support tomorrow and our evaluation was over.

At about 3:00 pm, we were on our way back to our hospital. My brain was processing and texts were flowing in asking if I was ok. At this moment, I knew I had grown connections with the healthcare staff as they assured my wellbeing. I was managing well and taking the time to process the situation. They were bad people and there is nothing to do about it. The patient will pass tomorrow and he is not getting away with death. It is ok and I am ok. The Tuesday workday was over and it was a long one.

The Psychiatric department is full of unknowns and entertaining stories, but this particular one I will remember for the rest of my life. Conversing with a murderer was never on my bucket list, but it is now a situation I can reflect on and comprehend. I never thought I could be this comfortable with a place where most people would be severely uncomfortable. To this day, I see my future career in the psychiatric field aiding with mental health and I can thank this specific Tuesday for proving to me that I can handle the tough elements, rather than running away.

Romie Llewellyn is from Orlando, FL, and is on the Lander women’s soccer team. She will graduate in May 2025 with a Bachelor's degree in Exercise Science and a minor in Chemistry. She spent the summer interning in the Behavioral Health Department at AdventHealth Orlando. After college, she will gain her EMT certification and work as an EMT while she gains experience to prepare her for Physician Assistant graduate school.