Cocaine, Frogs, and Formaldehyde: I Was Framed

A high school memoir

Aimée Brown Gramblin
The Memoirist

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Photo by Alina Vilchenko: https://www.pexels.com/photo/brown-cat-in-pet-cave-3218842/

In 9th grade, a biology class ended up being more than my tender heart could handle with the whole frog dissection thing.

Natalie was severely shy and quiet until she wanted something from me. She wore lots of black, had black hair, and a blank stare. We were assigned the same table on the first day of bio class.

In a way, Natalie resembled the frozen and stunned look of the dead frogs we were instructed to dissect. The first day the formaldehyde-laden frogs were distributed, I promptly inhaled the chemical stench, rose from my seat, walked into the hallway, and fainted.

The 15-year-old vegetarian (me) was given a pass on dissecting frogs. My table mates did the dirty work, and I wrote stuff down.

It was still torture to my adolescent soul.

But what I’m about to confide in you? That, well, that happened before frogs, formaldehyde, and fainting.

The War on Drugs

Natalie had straight black hair, no bangs. She’d slick her hair back into a ponytail sometimes. When she did this, her huge brown doe eyes and the red veins lining the whites of her eyes were on vivid display.

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Aimée Brown Gramblin
The Memoirist

Age of Empathy founder. Creativity Fiend. Writer, Editor, Poet: life is art. Nature, Mental Health, Psychology, Art. Audio: aimeebrowngramblin.substack.com