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Smoking Kills Both You and Me By: Amanda Krauss You are 1 out of 1.1 billion smokers in the world. You’re a walking cigarette. Your body is addicted to nicotine; a drug that is almost impossible to give up. I can only persuade you to quit. I could tell you a million medical reasons of why you shouldn’t smoke, but would that make a difference?

What if I told you more than 400,000 deaths in the U.S. each year are from a smoking related illness; and that smoking increases your risk for lung cancer, throat cancer, chronic bronchitis, and many others? Or what if I told you second hand smoke kills too, would the better of my life persuade you to quit? Secondhand smoke kills, and by smoking around me you are putting me up for the chances of getting asthma, constant, coughing, bronchitis, pneumonia, and the list goes on.

I know that smoking is a purely independent decision, but I can tell you it’s the wrong one. I have never smoked, and I don’t know what its like. If it’s the thrill of the cigarette that keeps you going, or maybe your life is so stressful smoking is a way to “calm your nerves”. Maybe you find smoking cool, and that leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand and puffs of smoke pouring out of your nostrils is attractive. But I can tell you 20 years from now when your lungs are black, you can barely exercise you cough so much, and your skin oozes with the smell of smoke, please tell me how in god’s name you still look cool. Smoking is the wrong decision, plain and simple.

Smoking a cigarette is giving up the chance to play with your little girl because you smoked so much in the past you can barely run around without wheezing. Smoking a cigarette is later feeling the burning sensation in your throat and then vomiting after your first smoke because you were pressured to look “cool”. Smoking a cigarette is giving up the taste of food, and eventually losing all taste buds. Smoking a cigarette and not quitting reserves yourself a hospital bed.

I say this not to be mean or cruel, but because I care enough not to tip toe around the subject. I will tell you that if you don’t quit now when you’re young, you are going to regret it. I poked and prodded; I shared all the medical reasons which you probably knew from the get go and continuously hear. What if I said that I personally hated that you smoked? You are my role model, words I have never spoken to your face. You are one of the few I look up to, and I love you but I absolutely hate what you are doing to yourself. I hate when you have to leave the theater in the middle of the movie to take a smoke and then come back coughing with a trail of smoke. I hate that most of the time when I come over I only see you smoking on the deck or shuffling through draws to find a cigarette. I hate the smell of your clothes, and the smell of your car. We don’t go to the gym together anymore because you can barely keep up with me on the treadmill. You are taking away your own life and parts of mine.

I hate when you smoke, I can’t stress it enough. I hate the smell of smoke. I hate the flick of a lighter, the first puff of a cigarette. I hate when smoke pours out of your nostrils and mouth. Hate a purely hateful word. I keep repeating myself, telling you I hate this and I hate that, but this is the only way I fell you will actually hear me. Hate is a word I try not to use, you don’t hate something my mother says you dislike it. But to tell you that I dislike smoking would be a joke, and hating it with a passion would be extreme, so I simply hate your smoking habit. I love you, but I hate what you are doing to yourself. I want you to be around 20 years from now.