The Cage by Olga Guniavaia

A convulsive shadow runs across her lips
when she hears the sound of her own name. An unbodied sound returns her here, to the cage, to the dungeon, from which there is only one way out. No one around.
She is restless in a cramped ward and still feels an unreasonable anguish squeezing her heart.
Her voice is weak and quiet, there is no trace of her former determination in it. She can no longer cry, in her case it is a crime against herself. Nobody will come for her, close people were the ones who shoved her into this cage – they will not allow her to leave.
It is possible to drown in silence. It splashes stilly, flows down the walls, is reflected in the mirrors by a ghostly breeze, washes vaulted windows, behind which an eternal thunder rages.
She does not worry, her breathing is even and calm, she does not even close her eyes. The ghost of imaginary freedom is about to embrace her with its deceptively wide wings. But there is still nobody nearby, and the grill is locked.
She will never get out of this nightmare. She hears the vile laughter of her relatives, friends, acquaintances. They despise her, whisper behind her back, cast side-glances. They’ve locked her in a personal prison. What do they need? Will she survive until the next morning?
Sooner or later they have to show up, do something with her. But they are all gone. Every day she becomes less and less, and life flows from her as well as light.
She closes her eyes, feeling the icy needles of horror approach her heart. She cannot breathe, because every breath is an awareness of imminent defeat. She is angry, and her anger fills the dungeon. She wants everyone to feel what she feels. She wants those people to regret everything, but her dumb screams remain unheard.
She's not who she should be. It’s clear why they hate her. She hates herself too. But is that right?
For some reason, the muddy consciousness so inappropriately threw memories of the last conversation with her grandmother. She used to understand her like no other. Her last words were forever engraved in her memory.
You are who you are.
White circles in the eyes, traces of nails on the palms. At the end of the day, she let her grandmother down. She will not change anything. She can't get out of this cage.
Or not?
She suddenly felt amused. For the first time in a while she formed her mouth into what appeared to be a smile-like shape. These fools will not keep her here. Who cares what they think? She is who she is, and there lies a tiny bit of self-love that she still has.
She will work on it. She will get stronger. As soon as she comes up with how to get out of this cell.
She stands up abruptly, losing orientation for a second and literally blindly rushing to the bars, pushing the door with all her might.
...
It turns out to be unlocked.