I shot him the second night. It was really odd- one second he was hurting me and I was crying, the next he was limp and heavy but I could shove him off. It was so easy to remove him, to hurt him back.
It's not like he deserves to live anyways. He hurt someone, not the fact that it was me, but the fact he hurt someone. He was found in my room. Mom yelled at me for being a curse. She moved his body into her room.
She didn't report it.
Our Nana moved in to comfort her, even though they can't stand each other. Nana told me I need to stop annoying my mom. Nana made some food from the moldy leftovers.