The old man, whose name I learned is Quincy, has been begging us to kill him for a few days now. Or maybe weeks, but I don't think it's been weeks. I asked him why, and all I got in response was "It's my fault you're here, you should be angry, please, I just want to make what I've done right."
Marie and I locked him in the extra room in the house, we don't know what he means. He yells through the door sometimes that "I shouldn't of granted their wishes, it seemed so noble at the time- please!" neither of us knows what he means.
However, in better news, the world is back to normal again! Bright, vibrant, the neighbors house is back, the trees are growing fruits again, my garden is back.. Everything is good, except for Quincy. He is concerning me.