All I can be sure of is that for the first decade of my life, they shaped me into the contradiction I am now. I am not like them yet I am them. I kill as they killed but not for the same reason. I kill to save others, not punish them. I walk my own path yet I am always aware of the outlines of my parents’ footsteps before me. Killing is as natural to me as walking or blinking. It’s like bursting a blister or taking a tablet for a headache.
