Suicide Med

by Freida McFadden

I try to imagine what sort of woman would make the decision to dedicate her body to a medical school. After everything I’ve seen this year, I know that’s one thing I myself would never do. The last thing I want is a bunch of snotty twenty-two-year-olds making fun of all my subcutaneous fat.

the intense boy introduces himself as Glenn and the cute, short girl says her name is Charly.

We’re about to go another three or four rounds like we usually do when I hear Rachel yell from the bedroom, “For Christ's sake, hang up the goddamn phone already before I shoot myself in the head!”

Seth is my first… well, no, he’s more like my second… well, anyway, he’s my first love.

I may not be great at anatomy, but I have become a Master of Procrastination (MoP).

“So what would you do if some guy attacked you?” Abe shrugs. “I don’t know. Sit on him?”

We weren’t Sleeping Beauty and Prince Whatever. We’re just two people who dated a while in college and broke up when life got in the way.

In college, my girlfriends always told me that a guy who’s never had a girlfriend is a major red flag, but I thought they were being silly. It doesn't matter that Abe never had a girlfriend before. It will just make our relationship all the more special to him. As it turns out, I should have listened to them.

It’s like she’s been waiting for me. Creepy.

You’d think a shrink would have a better poker face.

“I think your boyfriend is single-handedly supporting the flower industry.”

L i t e r a l l y. I need me an Abe, secret or not.

“I’m going to keep her,” he says. “No matter what I have to do, I’m not going to let her get away.”

I recently learned that during hyperventilation, the lungs blow off too much carbon dioxide. As the amount of carbon dioxide in the bloodstream goes down, the blood vessels going to the brain constrict, cutting off the brain’s oxygen supply.

But is an eye really an eye if there is no brain to perceive its vision?

“Have you ever heard of something called vanishing twin syndrome?”

I shake my head. “It’s actually quite common,” he says. “I’m sure you didn’t know this, but about one in eight pregnancies is a twin pregnancy.

“I’m willing to bet that your gestation was a twin one,” Petrov says. “And you absorbed your twin brother in utero.” Great. I’m such a fatass that I ate my twin brother.

I don’t know what I found more endearing: how sweet she was to the little kid or the fact that she walks around with a bunch of chocolate in her purse.

I’ll fucking butcher myself if I have to.

I’m not alone. I’ll never be alone. I’ve got my twin brother with me. My twin brother: the eye in my butt. Nothing creepy about that.

I thought that the eye belonged to my evil twin, but it turns out that I was the evil twin all along.

If I ever get married, I’m going to marry someone really ugly who knows what it’s like to be shit on by the world.

Nobody deserves to get through life as easily as he does. Nobody deserves to live in that giant house with two doting parents, to be handsome and brilliant, to get absolutely everything he wants in life. I want Mason to sink deeper and deeper into the hole. So deep that he can never crawl out.