I squeeze my eyes closed and shimmy alongside her. As my head emerges from under the building, two pairs of hands scoop me upward by the shoulders. The ambulance is two metres in front of me, back doors wide open. Two paramedics and two police officers surround me. Their eyes watch my every move.

And I am outside of myself again. But I’m not peacefully drifting through the sky now. I am just above head height. My own screams rip through me. I watch as my fists flail outwards. I look on as I’m forced to the ground. My legs kick out wildly. Mr Foxton kneels on my left arm. One police officer grapples with my right hand and tries to twist my thumb backwards. My foot makes contact with the male paramedic, sending him stumbling backwards. One of my shoes flies free from the struggle, and then the other. My shirt is ripped clean open. I watch the tortured grimace twist my own face as I am slowly overpowered, as through her tears Miss Morgan begs me to calm down.

My outstretched limbs require the strength of three people to fold them clear of the ambulance doors. And then I am inside. Silent, foam at my lips, eyes bulging, every muscle in my body strained.

A syringe is stabbed into my left arse cheek.

I collapse back into myself.

Their voices fade. They drift away.

And the darkness swallows me.

Order

I sit alone. I’m twenty minutes early for the meeting. Empty rooms are to be savoured around here – they’re rare, and the closest thing to freedom you’ll experience. My hands are grey where they rest between my knees, the sweat from my palms leaving a sheen on the stiff denim of my box-fresh jeans. Like most of us in here, I prefer to wear an old tracksuit – something that serves for both day and night in an environment where the two are never demarcated by so much as the dimming of lights or a silencing of panic alarms. But it pays to make the effort on these fortnightly case-conference days. To look smart, to take pride, to assume the appearance of Somebody Not Nuts.

Soon I’ll be joined by two doctors, a couple of random staff as well no doubt, and whoever else might wish to show their face and wade in with an opinion. I’m not entirely sure why they invite me along – case conferences essentially involve talking about me as if I’m not in the room. They always make me nervous, but never more so than today. So much rides on this.