Ficlets

Her Cage

I was banging on the cage. Banging, and banging, and banging, until my hands hurt. I paused and looked at them, turning them over, feeling the part that was hurt. They were cold. I put my hand on the metal bar of the cage. It was freezing, freezing cold.

And then, I stopped. I gingerly sat down, back against the wall, wincing as I put my hands on the ground to stabalize myself. Then I put my hands in my lap, rubbing them carefully.

There, on the ground in the cage, is where I gave up.

I was tired of fighting. Why fight against all of them? The whole school, the whole world? It’s the way society works, and I just happened to be on the wrong side of it. I just happened to be the victim, the prey. And what’s the use of fighting society?

Anyone could see she needed saving. Or maybe that’s just it. Maybe no one could see. Maybe that’s why no one bothered to help, to save her.

They just let her scream, bang on the cage, fight and try every way she could to change things, and then… give up.

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