Release me. Now. Or I will have the police escort you off the premises." I said not having the energy to try to push myself into a kneeling position. "What would the police have to do with this? You haven't done anything wrong. Just do as you are told." she said looking at me. Then turning on her heel she left the room. When she was gone, I lifted up the sheet to check the baby. She was sleeping. I then checked my wounds and found they were almost healed. I tried and the bed, only to find it to be so firm it made it difficult to turn over. I was soon able to move across it, but it took a very long time and was painful. When I tried to walk, my right leg immediately buckled under me. I realized I was weak. I tried again and was shocked when I found I couldn't make it across the room. There was no way I could ever make it back to my room. I began to crawl and crawl and crawl. I had started to have trouble breathing. I felt so weak. I crawled up on the bed and lifted myself up so I could sit on it. I felt so light. I felt like I was flying. When I did this, I began to cry. I began to cry because I was so happy. I was a free man. I felt so light. I felt as if I was flying. I sat there on the bed and began to cry and cried and cried. I was free! And I would never let anyone hurt me again! It was wonderful! I felt like it was the end of a long tunnel. Just sitting there, I was surrounded by silence. No one was shouting at me. There were no interruptions from staff members. There was no noise at all. I sat there crying on the bed. My tears fell on the bedspread and the white blanket beneath it. I had no idea how long I was sitting there, but after a while I found myself standing up. I was still very weak, but I was able to make my way across the room. I don't know how. It just happened. I grabbed the knob on the door, turned it, and walked out. Everyone was watching me. They all sat around in rows. We all had the same blank expressions on our faces. No one moved. No one even tried to talk to me. They watched me. At first I didn't understand why. Then I realized I was walking like I'd never walked before. I could actually walk now. Then I understood. We were here to make sure I didn't die. The nurses were worried about my health, about their performance ratings. The doctors were worried about their careers. Everyone was worried about what would happen to them if I died. They were worried about losing their jobs. But I would not let them break me! They couldn't hurt me anymore! I was done being broken. I was done being controlled. The very thought of them! I began to tremble with rage. I wanted to stand up and scream at them. I wanted to scream and scream and scream until they were all crushed into a pile of dust. Then I realized I was walking on broken bones, broken ribs. I sat on the bed. I knew they couldn't do this to me anymore. I felt a tear run down my cheek, but I didn't cry. I was too angry. I began to struggle to get up. No matter how hard I tried I was unable to sit up, but I knew I would. I felt this power that I didn't have before. They tried to break me, but they couldn't. I would never let them hurt me again. I was strong now. I couldn't be broken any more. No matter how hard they tried they could not do this to me. No matter how many injections they shot into me, I would never let them control me again. I was strong now. I could no longer be broken! I didn't need them. They could do whatever they wanted to me, but it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't let them kill me. No one would hurt me again. I was going to go to the cafeteria for a snack and eat and eat and eat until I had a belly ache. I was going to eat until I felt like I was going to explode. No more of this hurting my feelings and making me gain weight. This place was so stupid, so ugly, so mean. It was all I could do to stop myself from running out and screaming at everyone. Then I felt the tears on my cheeks. I looked up. It was only then that I realized how pitiful I looked. All those hours of crying. My face so red and swollen and my hair a mess. I began to sob. The tears poured from my eyes. I waved my arms. "Stop looking at me like that! I'm not dying! This is just a problem. I'll get over it and get back to being the way I was. I'll get back to being numb and dead, but I won't die! I won't die. I won't die." I sobbed loudly and in frustration. I got up and sat on the couch. I cried and cried and cried. When the nurse entered the room, I was sitting on the floor with my back to the wall, bawling. My fists were clenched so tight the knuckles were turning white. "What happened, Mrs. Conroy?" she asked. "I don't know. I think I just can't do this. I can't go on. I can't. I don't want to." I sobbed loudly. She looked concerned and asked if she should call someone. "No. No. Please. Please. I'll be alright. I'll be fine. I just don't know what to do." I felt embarrassed. I tried to pull myself together, but it was too late. She called for some sort of staff supervisor. When he arrived, she talked with him. He was so nice. He just looked at me and rubbed my back and looked at me. I knew he knew I was a very sick, a very pathetic person. He led me to the door. "I don't think you can just walk off like this. I think you need some more care." "I don't. I don't. I'm just sad. That's all. I just feel sad." I tried to pull my arm away, but he wouldn't let me. He pulled my arm behind my back. When I struggled to get away from him, he just kept pulling me and pulling me and pulling me and I couldn't get away. When he finally let me go, I began to run. I ran as fast as I could away from him, but he caught me easily. He grabbed me from behind and flipped me over and pinned me to the floor. When I struggled to get free, he slapped me across the face, then again and again and again. When I stopped fighting, he grabbed a broom from the corner and began to hit me with it. "No one runs off from me and gets away with it." He began slamming the broom over my back and head and face. I stopped resisting. When he was through, he just looked at me. "Come with me. I have something for you." I felt weak. He just grabbed my arm and led me to the cafeteria. When we got to the cafeteria, he just left me standing there. I sat down and cried. It was my first time ever crying. I tried to stop myself. I knew people saw me. I knew people saw me and I was sure they thought I was pathetic. Then I realized what was really happening. They were saying nothing because no one had died. So I felt guilty. I tried to tell myself I was really guilty. I couldn't help it. But when no one was around, I stopped crying and ate a whole dinner. I remember the cafeteria staff talking amongst themselves, but I was still crying as I ate. Then I suddenly realized what was going on. No one cared. No one thought I had died. No one felt guilty for what they had done. They had no feelings for me. No one cared. No one loved me. They were glad I was dead. That's when I started thinking of everyone as my murderers. The people who just sat there and watched and did nothing. I was done being a victim. I was done being weak. I was done feeling