I hear it, a sound so slight, and I know … he is in the house.

I slip to the floor, and reach under the bed for the 12″ pig sticker that lies there waiting for this night.

I creep across the room to the open door … the knife cold in my grip.

My silk nightie clings to my moist body; the beat of my heart fills my chest.

I edge down the moonlit hallway. Hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

I turn the corner. Shadows deep, menacing … a floorboard creaks.

The smell of him hits me first …


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