The Girl in the Glass Cage

    I am the Girl in the Glass Cage that you have come to observe. You pay your fee, my ever tightening slave bond, to satisfy your curiosity.
    Each dollar bill you willingly hand over only serves to increase my entrapment.  Maybe you know this, and find some means to justify yourself.  Maybe you don't, and think it's just one, big, elaborate hoax.                             However you find yourself to be there (whether by word of mouth, advertisement along the highway, or some sick fetish you googled for.), my fate remains the same. 
    There's no clocking out for me.  There are no breaks or vacations.  I am forever imprisoned in this prism.  In this little cube, I can witness every vile look of disgust you throw my way. I can see the way you laugh and jeer at my malformities.  Nothing is private in this place.  Everything I do is on display for your amusement.    When you get bored of my sabertooth fangs, glowing red eyes, black leather wings, and taloned hands, you'll just move on to the pitiful creature encased next to me.
    His fish like features will amuse you at first, but eventually you'll move on to the elephant man.  Then the next poor soul until you've had your fill.
Once you leave this wretched place of misfits, abominations, and mutants, you'll leave without a backwards glance.   We will become a distant memory in your life. Just a highway attraction that you'll vaguely recall someday.
    Someday, if you do come back, you may notice some changes.  The cage that once held the fish like creature, my silent companion, is now forever frozen in a jar of yellow liquid.  In his place is a new poor soul.  The elephant man?  You may have noticed his flayed skin stretched taunt for you to observe. 
    Do you ever wonder why they ended up there?  Do you even care?  Day in and day out, we must perform.  Those that don't, or who lose the will to live, are turned into twisted displays, sick statues, and more.  Every day I must display the results of the sick experiment that was forced upon me, or join my fallen brethren in a more gruesome display.
    But you don't care.  I'm just some specimen to be observed. I wonder if you would care if my deformities were hidden. I wonder if you would find pity deep within if I retracted my fangs, forced my eyes to morph back, bound my wings down tight, and hid my talons. 
    No, I think not. Behind this barrier, I'm just an attraction. An object. I'm not real. In the end, curiosity will always win over better judgment.  Forever, I will remain the Girl in the Glass Cage.