“Don't touch me!”  Arrow snarled, his voice shaky.  He pulled his arm back from the nurse, his blue eyes wild and scared.  She said nothing, and just held her hand out, motioning for him to give her back his arm so she could inject him with his medication.  He hated the stuff; it made his eyes heavy and his thoughts fuzzy.  Of course, that's probably what it was intended to do, in order to keep him and everyone else out of trouble.

He had been at Remmington's for only two and a half weeks, and his dislike for the place was growing stronger.  For the most part, they kept him either drugged or locked up in some room for 'observation'.  He hardly saw anyone, with the exception of this goddamned nurse and her needle.  He didn't even have clothes that fit properly yet.  He currently had one of the facility's white tee-shirts that was so big it came down to his knees.

The woman sighed after a few more moments.  She stood up and moved towards him.  Arrow backed up like a cornered animal, his eyes darting around looking for an escape.  Of course, there wasn't one.  There never was.  She reached out and seized his wrist with an iron grip.  He yelped and struggled against her, pushing her away with his free arm.  He collided with the wall behind him, and the nurse leaned into him to hold him still as she fumbled with the needle.

He screamed as he felt the prick on his arm.  He twisted his head around and bit down hard on the nurse's arm, clamping down until he could taste the metallic flavor of blood.  The nurse stumbled back and called for help.

Another doctor-looking guy opened the door.  Arrow quickly saw his opportunity.  He charged the guy at the door.  He must have looked kind of scary, with the crazy blue eyes and blood at the corners of his mouth, because the man simply stepped back and held his arms up in front of his face protectively.

Arrow had no plan, and the drugs were quickly coming into effect, but he ran down the hall like his life depended on it.  His bare feet slapped the white tile floor, and his heavy breathing echoed off the walls.  It was awful, everything was white.  He turned down a hallway that looked exactly like the last.  His footsteps became unsteady as the drugs pumped through his veins, and eventually he tripped.  He choked down a sob as he struggled to get back up, his vision spinning.  He was able to stumble around the next corner before he had to stop, leaning against one of those horrible white walls for support.  He slumped to the floor, feeling defeated, and listened for the sound of footsteps, which he was sure would come in just a few moments.