Night shifts are the worst. On one hand you don't have any managers breathing down your neck but on the other hand it's night shift. It was cold out and I was cozy in my office. I had sent the oncoming team out to patrol the property while I settled into reading my emails and drinking coffee to hopefully keep me alive until morning.

The phone rang and seeing that it came from an internal number I answered, "Scurity,"

"She's here again man." said Tony on the other side.

"Fuck ..." I sighed, "alright, I'll be there in a minute."

At that time, she didn't have a name and we only knew her as the interview woman. She was short and petite at roughly 5 feet tall who dressed nicely and spoke very respectfully. I had dealt with her previously and knew that she could be frustratingly persistent. She would always answer questions with a question and deflect attempts to identify her. There was something strange about her and the circumstances surrounding her appearance at the building.

A few weeks prior she had shown up in the middle of the night insisting that she had an interview with the bank on the 20th floor and that they were expecting her. After a quick walk around of the 20th floor the supervisor at the time determined that no one was on the floor and she left deflated once informed. Since then, she had returned several times braving the elements of the harsh winter to attend in business attire looking for an interview with the bank. She had specific names of people who she was told to meet with and carried them in a day planner. I had met with her a few times and had gone as far as to stand in the doorway of a revolving door to prevent her from entering the lobby knowing full well that it could take hours to get her to leave. We had previously called the police to attend but she always left before they arrived.

Truthfully, she seemed harmless but I couldn't figure out why she kept showing up. Surely, she couldn't have just been looking for a warm place to hang out, her backstory was too elaborate. Every interaction with her was the same.

I arrived in the lobby to found Tony standing with her.

"Hello again," I offered as I approached her.

"Hi," she said.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"I am here for an interview with Michael and Troy on the 20th floor, there should be an email allowing you to send me up." She said with deadpan expression and diction.

"Sure, what's your name so that I can check my emails?" I asked.

She hesitated and I was expecting a deflection but this time she changed her mind.

"Cindy," She said.

"Okay, what's your last name Cindy?" I asked.

"Wu," She replied.

"Cindy," I said without checking my emails, "no one is here for the interview, no one from the bank seems know who you are or why you are here. I am trying to figure out why you keep coming here."

"Okay?" she responded looking confused.

"Where do you live Cindy? I asked.

"Why does that matter?" She responded.

"Do you live with family?" I asked.

"Why?" she replied.

"Well, I am a bit concerned for your wellbeing to be honest, "I said, "Cindy can I ask you a bunch of silly questions?"

"Okay?" she responded.

"Do you know what day it is?" I asked.

"Wednesday," She replied.

And she was correct. She answered all my questions and knew the date, the city she was in, the elected officials, her birthday, and how old she was based on her birth year. There was a pause after that as I wrote down her birthday and name in my notebook.

"Can I go up to the interview now?" she asked breaking the silence.

"No Cindy, there is no one here by the name of Michael or Troy and the bank doesn't have any interviews scheduled with you. It's 11pm, why would a bank schedule an interview with you at 11pm? Doesn't that seem strange to you?" I asked.

"That's what time they told me come," she said insisting.

"No Cindy, you didn't talk to anyone who told you to come here for an interview," I said.

"Okay," she replied, "can I go upstairs now?"

Tony and I shared a look that suggested that we both wanted new jobs.

"Do you have phone numbers for Michael or Troy?" I asked, "I can call them for you."

"I have them on my cell phone but there's no answer," she pulled out her cellphone and held it too her ear but I wasn't able to tell if she had pressed send and was calling anyone.

"There's no answer," She said after a few seconds.

"Okay Cindy, well if they won't answer or come down to get you then I can't allow you to stay here, okay?" I said, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave the lobby."

"Okay," she replied, "can I go upstairs now?"

"Cindy, you have to leave the lobby now, do you understand? if you don't leave, I'll call the police and you can explain it to them alright?" I said.

"Okay," she said, "I'll leave."

She sat there and stared at her day planner without moving.

"Cindy, are you going to leave?" I asked after about 45 seconds of silence but there was no answer, she had decided to stop talking and stay there in silence. We left her and walked to the other side of the lobby to regroup while having dispatch monitor her on camera.

Having previously been put on the spot like this I weighed the options in my head: Physically removing her is out of the question, she isn't a threat to anyone or anything. I could ignore her and hope she goes away, it's 11pm and no one should notice but I suspect that it will lead to more problems down the road if I don't do something. The last option was to call the police but I didn't want to make the call. I knew their response time would could be hours and that if they didn't arrive in time that there would be another black mark in an unofficial book somewhere about how we were wasting their time, and that even if they arrived quickly that we would still be labeled as wasting their time for having them attend to remove a small woman as threatening as a butterfly.

I hesitantly had dispatch call the police to attend but she got up and left shortly after and the call was cancelled.

Cindy returned a few times during my off days and we met up again when I was back on day shift.

I attended and talked to her and had the exact same dialog that I had with her previously except this time she provided me with her address and phone number. After some convincing and luck she left after an hour or two without incident.

When she left, I went to my office with the new information and did a google search to see if I could figure out who she was. The phone number provided came up to a group home for children and seemed to be registered to a different but nearby address to the one that she had given me.

After consulting Mike, my manager, I called the group home to ask if they knew about her. Aiden, the owner of the group home told me that Cindy was his neighbour of 20 years and that she had schizophrenia. She apparently had periods where she wouldn't take her medication and would disappear but that she was harmless and that the police deal with her regularly. He instructed me to call the police if we come in contact with her and that they would help her out. The most interesting part was that Aiden believed that she used to work at the bank and that those people were probably real people but from 15 years prior which is why no one knew who they were.

I felt some relief in knowing some backstory on Cindy and felt ready to approach her with renewed confidence and instruction but she never came back. I am not sure what happened to Cindy but hopefully she is doing well and is back on her medication.

What did I learn? - Schizophrenia has many faces and affects people differently. It is a difficult disorder because you are the only one who doesn't know that your thoughts, delusions, and paranoia aren't real. It can be frustrating to deal with but remember that you aren't dealing with a schizophrenic, but a person who has schizophrenia. Always put the person ahead of the illness.