Monster Within

You hear chains scrape across cement, in each direction are metal bars to form a cage with no door. There are blackened wings scattered upon the floor as blood slithers down your back. You rattle the bars and shout for help, but your despair is met with the sound of an eerie voice: "That's it. Sing, my little Birdie."
You refuse to be tamed, those who bark orders will become a problem fast. Within there's a mountain of pride that won't be squashed, to be treated like an foolish child is unacceptable. It's for this reason you might become defensive when threatened, turning emotions of hurt into angry outbursts in an attempt to hide the pain.

Stitched Together