I first killed when I was 16. It was an accident. I was biking down the lane, when Kevin came from nowhere, zooming down my residential street at 80 miles an hour. I had to jump off my bike to avoid getting hit. Kevin swerved to avoid my riderless bicycle, and crashed into a tree.

I passed my driving test with much difficulty at age nineteen. The next day, taking my new car for a spin, I saw Steve Norris tinkering with those giant tin sculptures he called art.. I got distracted by the sparks, and subsequently crashed into him and killed him. Turns out Kevin thought he was a pretty god driver.

With my license revoked, and my guilt and terror over having killed two people mounting, I dropped out of college and started doing construction. His name was Eric. Steve Norris wasn’t much of a welder, though now I know he thought he was.

Thankfully Eric thought he was great at Tetris... or so it seemed. But then I realized I could organize my fridge, readily, and my friends started asking me to pack for them. By now 10 years has passed, and my license was restored. And thanks to Eric I had incredible spatial reasoning and maneuvering skills. Hoping this would offset the “talent” I picked up from Kevin, I took a trip. And it helped for a bit.

Until, a few weeks in, I had a choice. I threw my car into neutral and panicked, and I hit the gas instead of the brake. I had to choose between hitting an old lady with a child, or another pedestrian. I expertly guides my car into the other pedestrian.

I don’t know what that pedestrian gave me. I only know that I really craved strawberry a lot after that. But I also knew I couldn’t take the guilt anymore. I needed to find someone with no conscience and who liked it having no conscience, and kill them.

I knew the man. He was hard to get to, but I scoped him out. I got him as he was sneaking into a hotel to see his mistress. I stood a few blocks away in a hotel, and with one shot of my sniper rifle (thanks again, Eric) I took him out.

So now I’m orange.