The woman on top of the cage, the one that knew me in my past life, cocked her head to the side and studied me as I ate my chocolate bar.
There was something very disconcerting to have someone staring at you as you ate. I knew my hands were dirty and my manners weren't the best, but still, she didn't need to look at me like that.
I felt enough like an experiment in a cage; I didn't need her adding to it.
"Don't you want to get out?" she asked like she couldn't believe I was still happily lying in my cage.
I mean, I wasn't overjoyed at it. But the fact that so many things were going on outside of it that were out of my control, my cage felt safe…
Known…
No one could grab me and carry me off because I was in my cage.
No one could hurt me because I was in my cage.
The world made sense because I was in my cage.
