the boys. I knew he had a demon
inside him, and I hated that; it
terrified me how violent and
dangerous he was when he
snapped. But in that moment I
knew exactly what I had to say to
get the monster on my side.
I told him the story, the names
they called me, the way they
attacked me. My mother kept
laughing it off, telling me to get
over it, that it was kids being kids,
no big deal. She was trying to
defuse the situation, but I couldn’t
see that. I was just mad at her. “You
think it’s a joke, but it’s not funny!
It’s not funny!”