In all honesty I have had a fairly easy life. I’m not adopted or orphaned, my parents never abused me physically or verbally and I have no learning disabilities of any kind. I grew up in a suburb, danced ballet, played sports in high school and graduated at the top of my class. I never broke a bone (knock on wood), sprained my ankle, contracted a disease that put my life at risk, had a major car accident or been diagnosed with any kind of illness. In fact I’ve never even been hospitalized and the only time I have been to a hospital is when someone in my family gave birth (to bouncing, healthy babies) or when I volunteered to put on a Christmas program for the children’s hospital as a part of my high school senior project. I have never felt racially discriminated against and I can’t say that I come from a socioeconomically disadvantaged family. In fact, when I applied for universities, I was astonished at how little scholarships and grants I qualified for because of my idyllic childhood and background. I can say that I have had a virtually care-free life. But my most challenging life experience was during my freshman year in college when for the first time, I was faced with having to stand up for myself, my beliefs, and my morals.
After PSATs, SATs, ACTs, and electronically filling out various applications to several universities, I chose to attend the University of California in Los Angeles. I started fall quarter and was offically declared as a Chemistry major, knowing I would most likely change majors eventually. My parents had helped me move into my dorm room the week before and my roommate was friendly enough–she seemed clean and studious but at the same time not too conflicting with my naturally chaotic personality. We had a few meals together, but it was pretty clear we would only be roommates and not close friends because we had different interests that put us in very distinct social circles. She played the cello in the orchestra and I was on the track and field team, running short-distance. So while I was up early for practice and training, constantly watching what I ate and conditioning during most of my free time, she had rehearsals late into the night, spent lots of time sitting and ate tons of junk. All the same, we were amiable toward one another and could have a laugh or two when it was just the two of us.
Our different schedules made it so I was constantly out of the room and spent very little time in the dorms while she was almost always in the room or very close to the dorms. I didn’t think anything of this–after all we were consumed in very different activities and part of college and the dorm experience was learning how to share a room and compromise. However by the end of the first month together I started to notice little things that made me suspicious.
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