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 …