The intent wasn’t to kill. The intent was to starve. The intent doesn’t matter.
I walked out of my last final and a rush of elation and sleep deprivation washed over me. I had made it through my first-year of the Pre-Med gauntlet. But it was calm, almost too calm. While this normally would be exactly what I’d be looking for following a long year, this was different. This was the type of calm people from Texas know all too well. This was the deceiving calm of a southern spring afternoon. This was the calm before the storm.
Growing up, my parents attempted to subdue my fearless nature with one of the most basic parent quotes of all time: “If all of your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?”
“It’s true what they say, this city never sleeps.” The words of my Uber driver echoed through my ears as I gazed out the window at the New York City…