My name is Emanuel. I'm 17 years old and I killed my mother. I had her sliced open, like a goat for the slaughter, to get me pulled out. As she bled, the doctor pushed air into my lungs and pressed his hands repeatedly onto my chest, with the same rhythmic, repetitive motion that he used to jerk himself off that very morning. It worked. He came and I came. Back to life.
The fact that my mother lost her life for this - for me - is probably just a side note. The cost of doing ...