I was a patient in a Florida state psychiatric hospital for six weeks in 1987, before most of the state mental hospitals were closed and all of the patients disbursed. I lived in a locked ward with thirty women who suffered from a variety of mental illnesses. Indiana, an abusive aid on the four-to-midnight shift, who held the keys to the ward during those hours, made life impossible for the patients and most of the other workers, all of whom I ultimately learned to respect, and even love. For me, trying to get well among all those women who may never get well, and for many of them, may not even improve, was a daily challenge. Princess was a low-functioning young patient who had a history of hurting other patients under Indiana's instructions. When Indiana told Princess to set me on fire while I slept, and going through the proper channels at the hospital didn’t help me, I finally had to call in the authorities to protect me and get me out of there. Lucky for me, I had some inside help.