That was my letter on TV news. Written by hand. Why would they show the anonymous letter I sent them? My teachers would surely recognize my handwriting!
There was no way for the three perpetrators to saved themselves now. My letter had exposed in detail the hazing ritual. The ritual that had taken place six months earlier wherein the three older students had forced themselves into the rooms of three 14-year olds. Pulled off their pants. Shaved off their pubic hair.
I remember. The victims trying to laugh it away as they were standing in line for Sunday breakfast. Joking away the abuse they had to endure.
And then six months later a journalist was running a completely different story. A person who had been locked in a cupboard for hours. The event had leaked to the press and she was gathering information.
It was my chance. I had to do something. I wrote to the network about what had happened just a few months after I had begun attending the boarding school.
And there was my letter on TV.
The day after they were expelled. Three young men who were about to graduate. They were given just four hours to vacate the school. The one they had lived at during four years of their lives. Where they had been perpetrators. But also themselves victims, year after year until tradition dictated it was their time to play the abuser.
All the adults at the school knew. Only the children had to face consequences. Only the 18-year olds.
And if any teacher recognized my handwriting they did not say to me.
I remained anonymous.