It starts, a whisper, a gentle echo through the room.
Someone's heard the secret, that dark and terrible secret.
One moment I was expelled, the next pregnant, a runaway.
(No one knew the truth; that lost and lonesome truth)
I'd dropped out of school, gotten married, been raped.
The story runs away, takes a life of its own, is pushed.
(The padded walls had been safe; away from the talk of people)
The whispers rise to chatter, the chatter to calls across the room.
Yes, I admit it.
(The scars are all the proof)
I was committed.
Not a word.
The gossip stops.