Sometime in the first grade
I made friends with a girl who seemed a bit awkward
weird in an inexplicable way
but I didn't mind
I don't remember specific conversations
I do remember her intellect
her empathy
She didn't seem to mind me
Her birthday came around and I noticed
that she was sad
No one seemed to acknowledge the day
and I felt it was important
I spent my allowance on a gift
Thinking back, her acceptance of it held trepidation
a fear that I couldn't make sense of at the time
After school her mother came
and saw the gift
She yelled at the girl, grabbed her arm
Public violence was foreign to me
at least violence perpetuated by adults
I hid behind a building and observed
Deep sadness and anger burning in my gut
wishing I could do something
feeling that I was responsible
I think about it now and wonder with a sense of sadness
if that was happening
What was going on behind closed doors?
