She grazed her hand over the cold bars, then began slowly pacing through the bit of empty space that was allotted to her. She couldn't help but be in awe of how accurately the experience of being trapped in a confined, empty space reflected her emotional state. She had always enjoyed being awake late at night when everybody else was asleep, but the experience was wholly different here than in her apartment. Back at home, the peace was a leisurely activity that she would say made her feel connected to herself, although she could never explain what exactly that meant. Here, this was a necessary experience in order to keep her sanity, which she was declared to have in court. Either that or she didn't have any sanity to begin with--either way, it was determined that her rash choices were not the result of temporary insanity. Funny, she thought, how my punishment will only serve to make me crazy if I am not already. It wasn't funny for very long. She started to cry. Not soft tears falling down the face, but the kind of release experienced only by someone who lost a child. She was determined that upon release, she would again make another mother feel her pain.