The tremble of voice speaks to me, thundering cracks that snap in. Windows opens as the wind blows, brushing strokes to my cheeks to toes. Inside the cabinet, breathing gently not speaking, as a stranger is outside. I gasp a puff of air, as my heart beats heavily, as every step he makes is heard. Creaking sounds of the door facade, as silent and grim. I can see him on the closest visible blinds, entering the room with a sharp edge.

As he stands closer, seeing that bastard knife, as the silver razor shimmer with the moon's glow. I hold my breath, to be quiet. And whimper in my voice, muzzle. I hear him across the...