They’d happen in our head stage manager Kathryn’s barn hence the barn party name. It would be pitch black, midnight, and we would all still be up throughout the night, kept awake by the dwindling candlelight from our ongoing game of hot seat. I liked to talk about myself when I was with them. Something about the moment’s serenity made me sure that I was safe, loved, and appreciated.
“McKenzie, you have to scream. Everyone else is doing it.”
If everyone else was jumping off a bridge, maybe. I wouldn’t be screaming in front of all these upperclassmen.
“I don’t know, y’all. I think all my screams are gone….” I said.
“Bullcrap.”
“The barn is a safe place!”
“You’ll feel great!”
“It’s so freeing, Mak! You got this!”