Silent Defiance

His jaw visibly tensed. Knuckles white, his hands clenched to fists. The laughter, growing louder as it reverberated through his mind.

“What the fuck? just ignore them... It doesn't matter.. just ignore them.. who cares anyway?” The voice of reason trying to overcome, subdue the laughter. It was failing. He could feel himself slipping into the rage, could feel it pulling at his shaking fists tempting them to action, running down through his legs, turning them to jelly.
It crept into his belly, unsettling, unnerving. He wanted to shout, to scream, but dared not for fear that his own shivering voice would set him off. Rip the sanity from his already tentative grip.
So, he remained silent as the barrage of taunts was flung at him. He bit his tongue as the first of the tears cut a winding path down his face to drip silently to the floor. He wouldn't speak out as he stared at the jeering crowd through blurred vision.
Even when the first blow landed he uttered not a sound, neither crying out in pain, nor roaring defiance. He merely absorbed the physical attack as he had the verbal ones preceding it; Silently. The caged anger building, but held contained, within him.
As he fell to the floor - feet and fists lashing out at him, bruising bone and cutting skin - his one consolation; indeed, the only thought he could focus on was his own private triumph, the only dignified defiance he could muster.
While his body was battered by booted blows and his heart rent by laughter, not one sound passed his lips, neither plea for mercy, nor even so much as a gasp for air. He hadn't screamed blasphemy at his assailants. He hadn't promised revenge.
They couldn't break him.
He remained silent.
Bleeding.....
Shattered....
But Silent.