Patricia tossed and turned in her bed. She had a nightmare about her husband André. André approached Patricia, his fists clenched. He had a very mean expression. Patricia started to back away slowly, but found herself in a corner. As her husband approached, she raised her arms to shield her face. It was not uncommon for Patricia to have these recurring nightmares about her now deceased husband. Sometimes, like that night, she would wake up from her sleep screaming or shouting loudly. Patricia then suddenly woke up and shouted, “No, don’t hurt me!” I will do what you want! An inmate from one of the adjacent cells yelled at Patricia. She was not very happy to have her sleep disturbed by Patricia's screams. She yelled at Patricia, “Girl, what’s wrong with you? Are you crazy or something? A guard's voice echoed through the prison as she said, "Ladies, cell block 'C', keep it down!" The next morning, a tall black guard brought Patricia to Dr. Morgan's office. This time, Patricia wore restraints on her wrists and legs. Doctor Morgan straightened his desk and said, "Please take the restraints off him." The guard looked at Dr. Morgan in disbelief and asked, "Are you sure you want me to do this?" The incident with Patricia, which had occurred only twenty-four hours earlier, should have been fresh in his mind. Usually, Dr. Morgan leaned in favor of the inmates. He could identify with them to some extent and felt sympathy towards them. The guard began to release Patricia, then put the restraints back on and said, "Doctor, I think I'd better leave them on." Trust me, you'll be glad you did. I just don't trust this one. The Doctor really...... middle of paper ...... I'm making an appointment for you to come back next Friday to tell me your story. Now, this is the final effort to rehabilitate you and help you complete the state-mandated program. There will now be a heavy presence of guards around you and the sessions, due to your unruly behavior. So, do you have any questions, young lady? Patricia had one more question for Doctor Morgan. With the photo of her family still fresh in her mind, she asked, “How old is your little boy?” Once again, he seemed reluctant and hesitant to talk about his family with an inmate. However, he said: “My little boy is eighteen months old. Now I remind you once again of our meeting on Friday. And please try to stay out of trouble, for heaven's sake. He gestured to the guards who were watching Patricia through the glass door. They entered and escorted Patricia out..