A chorus of voices filled the hallways of school. There were the popular kids, and then the richies. The jocks, and the cheerleaders. There were the punks and the goths; there were band dudes after that. We had the normal kids, the hippies and the indies; the geeks and the nerds, too. Not everybody got along in school, but for this event, they were willing to be in the same breathing space if not only for a matter of minutes.

"PRINT & TELL" read the signage printed in bold above the humongous blackboard displayed in the open corridors. Then in smaller, lighter colored letters, it said: nobody has to know.

Print & Tell was an annual event the guidance office of the high school, along with a bunch of psychiatrists checking on the students' mental health, sponsored every year. Anyone could stick a post-it on the board containing secrets they couldn't tell. Secrets that they could no longer bare to keep, and secrets they wanted to share if they only knew how. It was supposed to help them rid themselves of their pent up feelings, and most of the time, it worked. So what were the perks of being the school's guinea pigs for a whole week, you ask? No one would ever find out it was you.