Wrecked

I was never a good child. My previous foster families – twelve, to be exact – said I was a menace. A terror. My teachers claim I am truly disturbed. My pediatricians said I suffered from an imbalance due to something my mother did during my gestation. My psychiatrists and counselors reported that I was a psychopath.

The last are the ones that got it right.

But you see, though I was probably born this way – my childhood is plenty of evidence to the affirmation of such a claim – I've changed ov...