I write this account from inside a cage.

I would compare it to that of a gorilla. A tire swing, a pool and a wooden playground with a bridge and a pirate's lookout. Concrete walls and large reinforced windows overlooking a vast jungle that I wish I could explore.

Unlike a cage in a zoo, I have a den, with bookshelves. For a chair, I have an ottoman.

I face the computer screen sideways because my eyes don't point forward like a human. I frequently switch sides to avoid eyestrain.

Very difficult to type with these claws, but they've given me a setup similar to Stephen Hawking. I select words and phrases with a joystick. I can access a dictionary, thesaurus (no pun intended), order anything I want from a kitchen.

Regarding the latter, it comes through a mechanical dumbwaiter, and I get a sense that I'm receiving leftovers or discards. To be fair, I eat enough for four people.

Can't complain about the view. I can watch packs of Brontosaurus and Triceratops mill past the lake, pterodactyls...

Today the beep of security devices and the clicking of heavy doors interrupted me amidst A Study in Scarlet. I set the book down.

A white bearded man in khaki waddled into a viewing booth, escorted by armed men dressed for safari.

"Hello, Albert!" he called through the P.A. system. "Interesting choice!"

"I tried reading The Hobbit, but it doesn't sustain my interest." The sounds still felt unnatural in my fanged mouth. People say I sound like the Cookie Monster or the lead singer from Amon Amarth with laryngitis. Didn't get to practice much, except with him, though he coached me every day, sometimes from the booth, more often with what he jokingly referred to as The Batphone.' "I'd like to see a horse sometime. In real life."

"A logistical impossibility, I'm afraid. How did you like The Hound of the Baskervilles?"

They'd given me a television. I could select from three different movie channels.

I shrugged. "Hmm."

The man put his hand to the window, as if touching me. "Albert, I am so proud of you."

This man told me to call him Dad. I certainly knew the rosy cheeked, bespectacled face long enough to consider him one. In fact, I remember when that beard had a different color.

No one told me that good fathers don't lock their sons in a cage, or that you're supposed to look like them.

I remember hatching from an egg, and seeing that plump face smiling in excitement at me. "Hello, little one! Can you understand me? My name's John Hammond. Can you say John?"

At the moment, I only knew how to squawk.

The man fairly burst with a sort of insane joy. "I have designed you with parts of a human brain! You're going to have an amazing life! There's so much you're going to be able to tell us! Oh, little Albert, I can't wait until you're talking! Can you say dah dah?"

I just squawked. What did he expect?

Hours after I hatched, he introduced me to others of my kind. The baby Velociraptors shrieked at me and got the mother upset. The mother sunk her teeth into me and wouldn't let me go until they shot her full of tranquilizer. I spent months recovering in their animal hospital.

A few years later, "Dad" tried it again, but I'd learned my lesson. I cowered in the corner of the raptor paddock until they took me back out.

I set my book down. "Why do I exist?"

"Dad" thoughtfully stroked his beard. "That's a very human question, one mankind has puzzled over for thousands of years..."

I puffed air through my nasal flutes. "I understand that you created me in a laboratory. Why? Why make me and lock me away in a prison such as this?"

"Hmmm..." The man seated himself on a padded bench. "You want empirical answers? Fine. I am doing everything in my power to make this dinosaur theme park spectacular. I wanted each exhibit to be more amazing than the next, and you, my dear Albert, I wish to make the star of the show. People will come from miles around to have a conversation with an actual live dinosaur."

I snorted. "For money."

"No, no, it's not just money. I want to see the eyes of children light up when they come to visit. Just think of all the interesting conversations you'll have! You would like to talk to different people, would you not?"

"Why can't I talk to any now?"

"Well, because the park isn't ready. But all that is going to change, you see: We're just a few short days away from opening!"

I poked a claw to my muzzle, a human affectation.

John chuckled, cleared his throat. "Albert, I'm about to give some people an advanced preview. They should be along at any time, so I want you to be on your best behavior. I know you have somewhat of an anger problem. I hope we can do something about that before the park opens. I don't like having you in this cell any more than you do, but after the incident with Mr. Goedicke, we had to take certain precautions.

"If you behave nicely for our guests, who knows? Perhaps we can relax some of our security protocols a bit. Humans have a thing called Probation.' I trust you are familiar with the term?"

I rolled my yellow eyes, giving him a nod.

"Would you like to be placed on probation?"

I replied in a near whisper. "Yes, father."

"Good. Now, I need to go get my guests, so you may not hear from me for awhile. I've given orders to staff to continue serving you normally. If you need anything, please contact Mr. Henry Wu. I apologize in advance for the leave of absence, but it will be for your benefit. I shall be returning shortly."

I nodded, but said nothing.

He and his entourage exited through the noisy security doors. An hour later, I heard the whipping of helicopter blades, and a blue-white Agusta A-109A buzzed past my window, shrinking smaller and smaller as it crossed over the lake and into the mountains beyond.