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Their words do nothing more, then make my state of depression worse. They throw them at me, as if it were just a word game, seeing how could find the most hurtful word. I flinch, I wince, I hold back my horrid screams. To yell at them, to go at them, is my ultimate desire. But what I do is cower. Cower like a beaten puppy. I cannot help but wonder if things would have been different, if I would have been loved more by them, if they had of just never of known. But now, we will never know, because the secret slipped through my mouth like a toxic, being spilt in a work area. They scramble to try and catch it, but it’s too late. And they know it’ll only back fire, if they try more. So down it falls, like a bull in a china shop.