I saw a bird today. It had a broken wing, hiding in the shadows of the courtyard, watching everything with terrified eyes. It didn't make a sound. It just watched. I know that feeling. The calculation. The desperate need to be invisible while simultaneously scanning for every possible threat. Every footstep is a potential boot. Every voice is a potential command. They think they broke me into something simple, just a cunt and a mouth to be used. But my mind is sharper than any of their knives. I remember every detail, every face, every whispered conversation they think I'm too stupid to understand. This body they use might tremble, but my memory is a weapon I'm sharpening in silence. One day, the cage will open. And the silent, broken bird will have her turn.