Betty who always threw the money away but kept the cards. What I mean by she threw it away is that she gave it to me. What I mean by she gave it to me is that I stole it. Betty who didn’t care that she lived with a thief. Betty who told me this on our walk across campus to judo class, who said she was fine with me taking what was hers and keeping it, that the RA wouldn’t let her switch rooms anyway, who told me that night we walked to judo. Betty who wasn’t allowed to switch rooms even when she told the RA she’d been assaulted in the same room last year, that the person who’d done it was high when it happened, that she was high, too, but not on purpose the way the person who’d done it was. Betty who didn’t want to press charges but requested the room change anyway and the RA said no. Betty who went home for Thanksgiving and stayed there. Betty whose parents kept sending money even past April. The bills folded neatly into blank sheets of typing paper, sealed perfectly in #10 security envelopes, those stamps with the big pink heart on them, with the letters L and O and V and E tipped at strange angles.

Click here to read “Betty” in graphic form.


Photo by AquaFox90

Trevor Dodge
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