A Grim Realization of a Psychological Confinement

Freshly released into the wildwoods of My new life, all I could do was sit meekly next to the sadistic cage that had deprived My vigor for all those months. I was like some domesticated tiger that had lost its pounce.

I looked in all directions from My docile position, and spotted her off into the distance, but she was no longer looking in My direction. Her penetrating gaze was engrossed on her new prey, and she was stalking quietly, patiently, with sinister intentions.

I inhaled the crisp air, feeling the buoyancy of fresh breath in My chest–not the stale kind that had cemented My lungs for so long. Although I was free to go, I still found Myself psychologically confined to My diagnoses.

As I sat there, cursing My will under the ambivalence of night, I could hear rustling noises in the bushes–it was feeding time for her, and someone was getting theirs.