Macy:
I was looking into the eyes of the first person I ever killed.
"What are you doing here?" I hated the way his eyes made me feel guilty. He was a trash heap of a human; he deserved every strike I gave him.
"You're dying." He shrugged like that was the most straightforward thing he could ever say to anyone. A simplicity that stole the air from my lungs and stilled the slight beating of my heart.
"Impossible." I snapped. I crossed my arms to battle the chill that had settled deeply into my bones.
"Nothing is impossible, Macy. Let's go." He grabbed me by the arm, pulling me through a set of double doors. We stood in a hospital room; doctors and nurses were scrambling in the room, and screams filled the air as a woman was told, push, push, push. The screaming of a baby quieted the
