The Yellow Note
She handed me a bright yellow Post-It note. I was not prepared for the dark words written on it. I couldn’t reconcile the two – they didn’t go together. How could light and darkness share the same space? The words said, “I was raped.” She couldn’t bring herself to say them out loud. I couldn’t get them to register in my brain. I heard my idiot mouth say, “Are you sure?” I regretted the words immediately. She wanted me to say something to take away her pain. I wanted to say something to take away her pain. But instead I volleyed it back to her. I still don’t know what I should’ve said at that moment. But I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have been what I actually said. It was the day before Spring Break. I was at the school to pick her up. She hadn’t come to the car line. A teacher came to my car and asked me to come with him. He wasn’t talking. I was assuming she had gotten in trouble or something. He took me to the room she was in. That’s when she handed me the yellow Post-It note. I’...