Forensic units: the secure buildings that contain the dangerous and vulnerable, the diverse and interesting, the places where you go for your transgressions, to build the skills needed to re-emerge as a productive member of society. The places where plump patients slouch on sticky sofas, and listen to MagicFM, as health care workers try to encourage their participation in outdated, patronising activities, that most 10 year olds would find under-stimulating. The often volatile interpersonal conflicts, remedied with a punishment or the turn of a blind eye are frequent, and sadly detrimental to the ever increasing individual estimated discharge date. We linger in limbo, waiting for the next stage, a restricted life on the outside, and the hope that the nightmare ends.