Once I take a piss, noticing the scratches on my cheek and the multiple bite marks on my neck and chest, I soak my face in cold water and debate shooting Bernadette while she’s asleep. Maybe I’ll suffocate her with a pillow and make it look like the other girl did it. Too risky. As much as I’d love to end her, I can’t. I have too much emotional baggage to risk it. Maybe I should take a leaf out of my dad’s book and not give a fuck about anyone.
