We only live once: Protecting the sanctity of life
I remember the first time that I saw a friend’s arm in a cast. The tips of her finger were wrapped up in neon pink plaster, its bright color distracting me from the multiplication problems in front of me. During our break, all our classmates flocked to sign her cast, and so did I. I pressed the tip of the sharpie to the plaster’s rough surface, searching for a small space to write something when someone else’s message caught my eye, “You’re so cool!”