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Patricia tossed and turned in her bed. She was having a nightmare about her husband Andre. Andre approached Patricia with his fists balled up. He had a very mean expression. Patricia began to back up slowly, but ended up in a corner. As her husband got close, she put her arms up to protect her face. It was not unusual for Patricia to have these recurring nightmares about her now deceased husband. Sometimes, like that night, she would wake up out of her sleep screaming or crying out loudly. Patricia then woke up suddenly and shouted, “No, don't hurt me! I will do whatever you want!” An Inmate from one of the adjacent cells yelled back at Patricia. She was not to happy about having her sleep disturbed by Patricia's screams. She yelled out to Patricia, “Girl what the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy or something?”

A guard’s voice echoed through the prison as she said, “Cell block “C” ladies keep it down!” The next morning a large black female guard brought Patricia to Dr. Morgan's office. This time Patricia had on the wrist and leg restraints. Doctor Morgan straightened up his desk and said, “Please take the restraints off her.” The Guard looked at Doctor Morgan with disbelief and asked him, “Are you sure you want me to do this?” The incident with Patricia, which happened only twenty-four hours earlier, should have been fresh in his mind. Usually Doctor Morgan leaned in favor of the inmates. He could identify with them to a certain degree and felt sympathetic towards them. The guard started to unshackle Patricia but then put the restraints back on and said, “Doctor I think I better leave them on. Trust me you will be glad I did. I just don’t trust this one.” The Doctor really ...

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...m making an appointment for you to come back next Friday to tell me your story. Now, this is the last ditch effort to rehabilitate you and get you through the state mandated program. There will be a heavy guard presence around you and the sessions now, due to your unruly behavior. So, do you have any questions young lady?” Patricia had one more question for Doctor Morgan. With his family’s picture still fresh on 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 did say, “My baby boy is eighteen months old. Now I am reminding you once more of our Friday appointment. And please try to stay out of trouble for heaven’s sake.” He signaled to the guards who were observing Patricia through the glass pane in the door. They came in and escorted Patricia out.
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