Sometimes it seems like his life started when his mother died. He has a few foggy memories of before that, but nothing sharp or clear until he remembers the morning SOLOMON agents came to their house and killed her.
He remembers that her fingernails dug into his shoulder, that she pulled his small body in front of hers.
He remembers the shots, remembers the spray of warm, wet on his back.
As they pulled him out of the house, his hands gripped the frame of the door so tight …
He remembers it was the first time pain felt good.