I sat,
hands folded in my lap,
legs crossed,
like a good girl would.
I sat,
head ducked demurely,
contrite expression in place,
like a Catholic to confession.
Then the judge,
or priest,
or God
banged his gavel,
frightening the silence away.
I glanced up
and met his eye.
His scowl faltered
only for a moment.
Then his voice rang clear,
"Guilty."
And silence rushed back into the room.
The shocked hush
resounded in my ears
like the boom of thunder
              scream of a banshee
              wail of a mourner.
It rang and rang,
echoing, amplifying, echoing.
I couldn't take the deafening,
                                 clamoring
                                                   silence.
I sat,
head tipped back,
arms spread wide,
like Jesus on the cross.
I sat,
hysteric laughter spilling out,
rocking back and forth,
like a madman in the street.