Some doctor decided (against Roger's and Miss Ginny's will) that Roger would need a dose of medication daily to regulate his hyperactive body. It was recently discovered that Roger's heartbeat, blood pressure, digestive system, and nervous system were working too fast for him to keep up with - - it was causing significant weight loss. Roger weighed so low already, and shedding more pounds only meant trouble health-wise for him. The medication he was injected with made him feel disoriented for a while and very sleepy. Miss Ginny was required to give it to him. She hated holding him down on the bed and listening to him whimper softly to himself as she pushed the needle into his delicate little forearm. He would cry for a long time after, clearly not because of the shot but just in despair in general. She hated it. Absolutely hated it.

One day after the medication routine, Miss Ginny wouldn't play with Roger like usual. Typically, whenever he'd color or play with 'the thing' and his teddy bear, she would join in to make him more comfortable. But that day, she was just sitting near him, watching. There wasn't a cheerful smile. No talking. Just sitting. Roger caught on after a while and begged to know what was wrong. She would sadly smile at him, replying that everything was perfectly fine, but he didn't believe her. Suddenly, he panicked. "Is something wrong between you and Charles?" he asked in fear. She shook her head and gave a genuine smile this time. "No, no, darling. We're doing absolutely wonderful. He made dinner for me last night, and he brought up the topic of getting married. It dropped fast though, but still, it was a new discussion. It's never happened before." she answered thoughtfully. Roger grinned. Charles was keeping his promise.

Suddenly Miss Ginny glanced up at the clock that hung on the wall. She grabbed Roger's tiny hand. "Come darling. We must go," she said quickly, practically pulling him off the bed. Roger didn't particularly like this, this roughness and urgency that wasn't being explained. He tried to resist out of instinct. Miss Ginny pulled him. "Please, darling." she begged. "Please come with me." The terror in her voice worried her patient, so he hesitantly allowed for himself to be carried off the bed. Miss Ginny shifted him into her arms and walked briskly down the hallways. She brought him outside.

Roger hadn't been outside since he was admitted to the hospital. She then put him down, holding his hand as they walked the sidewalk of a nice garden area. The grass was green. The trees blossomed. The air smelled sweet. Roger gasped and looked around. Miss Ginny seemed a bit calmer, but kept looking behind her. "It's so beautiful here," he whispered. There were other patients walking around, some sitting on benches or wheelchairs. Roger didn't have any shoes on. Just his pajama-like clothes. He and Miss Ginny circled the area of the little garden countless times in silence.

Finally, Roger found the voice to speak to her. "Miss Ginny, why are we here?"

"Because…because I'm protecting you, darling." she answered almost sadly.

"Protecting me from what? I feel safe."

"You were scheduled to go to shock therapy this evening at six o'clock. I don't want you going. It doesn't help you. It sets you back - - you go from using complete sentences to speaking in bursts again. You go from good posture to cringing at every single noise. You lose your appetite. You can't sleep. You're in pain. I can't have that."

"…I'm sorry, Miss Ginny."

"No, no, no. Don't you think for one moment that it's your fault, baby. You can't control it. It's the therapy that does that, not you. I'm…I'm trying to protect you from it."

Roger stopped to dig a small weed out of the grass with his toes. He wouldn't look up. "So I figured that…well…they can't torture you if they can't find you. That's why we left the room. So they won't find you." she went on. Roger nodded gravely. He squeezed her hand tighter. He couldn't even express how grateful to her he was. But Miss Ginny seemed to know this already, and responded by giving him a kiss on the cheek.

They stayed out in the garden for a long time - - until they were the last ones left. It was dark outside now. Miss Ginny led her patient quietly through the halls again and into his room. She tucked him into bed and laid there with him as always; stroking his hair, telling him a story, humming softly, holding his hand. Roger let his eyes drift closed as he thought about how lucky he was to have such an intelligent nurse. Someone so brave, yet so loving. Just as he was about to fall completely asleep, the door burst open. Miss Ginny sat up immediately and looked at the light that was streaming in through the blinding space - - streaming into what used to be peaceful darkness. "Where is he?!" A man's voice thundered. Miss Ginny panicked right then. She threw her arms around the sleepy boy who was scrambling onto his elbows. A doctor hit the light switch, causing everyone to squint at the harsh beams. "You think you can hide him? Hide him away from everyone? The world? You want to protect this monster?" The doctor lashed out and grabbed Roger's little foot, yanking him off the edge of the bed. Roger cried out in pain and fear.

Miss Ginny leapt up and sprang at the doctor who was now pinning Roger's hands above his head and dragging him by his arms out the door. She weakly tried to tear his muscular grasp away from her patient, tears flowing down her face. "Please don't do this to him! Oh, please! It hurts him! It terrifies him! Please don't torture him anymore!" she begged in screams. The doctor held Roger up by his arms. "I don't care how much you beg or try to steal him away! I can perform this treatment at any hour - - be that seven in the morning, noon, or in the middle of the night! And what I say goes!"

"You don't understand anything! You don't know him! He's not your patient! He's mine! You're…you're a blaspheming idiot in a doctor's coat!"

Suddenly the doctor reached out and smacked Miss Ginny right across the cheek. Roger gasped. He stared with wide eyes and an agape mouth. She breathed hard, feeling the sting on her face. The doctor was seething. "Don't you ever use such disrespect on me again! You are a woman, and your job is to do what I say! Understand me?!" he shouted. Miss Ginny nodded slowly, still in shock.

Roger would have none of this.

He swung his foot out and kicked the man in the hip, then bit the hand that tried to swat at him. He clawed. Scratched. Gnawed. Ripped. Kicked. Thrashed. Punched. Images of a beast…a small little beastie being murdered right in his hands came flashing back through his memory. There'd been no beast then. But there was one now. And it was society. Society was the one that labeled him "insane". Society was the one that locked him up. Society was the one that decided his torture. Society was the one that set rules that he would have to obey or be rejected.

Society was the one that abused the good people like Miss Ginny and…Simon…who only tried to help him.

Roger felt himself crying hysterically. He didn't know he was sad, but the tears were endless. He also didn't realize that he was being fought back. Roger lost the battle with the man, and ended up sitting in the chair again with all the wires attached to him. This torture lasted longer and hurt far more than usual. When he was brought back to his room, Miss Ginny found so many bruises and open cuts on his poor body. He was stunned from the shocks still. She treated his wounds tenderly, crying softly to herself as she thought about his circumstances, his circumstances, their circumstances together.

She had to get him out of here.