Our home,
Was in the deep woods,
Where we lived a kind life,
We simple people of little use
To the outside world...
They do not need us-
Nor we them.

At night,
Darkness,
Drops like a veil.
And all the good children
Hide inside,
While our parents
Drink their life away,
Dancing in ceremonies
We have yet to attend-

Yet,
I am a child of the night,
Unafraid of the dark,
Climb through my window,
And wander through the fields,
Guided by the moon,
And stars that hang up high...

I listen to the wolves sing,
The hawks shriek,
The night creatures
Hunting in the early Spring.

We walk our separate paths,
And I,
Am not afraid...
Until at last,
I grow weary,
And return home.
Enter the window
That I left open...

But then,
I feel it-
I am not alone..

Feel that chill
Trickling down my spine,
The hairs rising on the back of my neck
Felt the breath of death
Brushing my soul..

And I know,
Someone is watching me...

Afraid to face the window,
I walk away,
My shoulder blades aching
With the need too know-
What followed me home?

I thank the stars
That the lessons learned,
Taught me to lock the window
Upon my return...

Still,
I don't feel safe,
Feel its cold clammy embrace.
Knowing there is no one here
but me,
I reach under my parents bed,
Pull out the gun,
Daddy keeps there.

Feel it now...
That adrenalin rush...
Breathing rapid and I try to hush...
Listening,
I hear the crunch of gravel
A heavy foot outside my wall.

Damn!
It has stopped moving.
And I can feel it
Thinking...
Fear makes my fingers tremble,
As I crack the gun in two...
Check to see that the shells are fresh.
So scared,
Yet ready too...

I feel it breathing now,
Something dark and dank,
A thing that even now
Decides my fate...

Suddenly I remember,
The lessons,
My sister tried to teach...
Something
About blanking your mind,
Pretending not to breathe...
Hides your soul,
From evil things...

I think of Nothing,
I think of Emptiness,
My life depends on
Not being able to breathe...

I feel its confusion...
My emptiness leaving it unfed.
To save myself,
I play dead...

Slowly,
It moves on...
Wondering what went wrong-

I feel it leaving,
But do not rejoice,
Being oh-so-careful
Of any choice...

They found me
In the morning-
My back against the wall.
Still clutching that damn rifle,
Like it was a doll...

I didn't have to tell them,
Never said a word,
The footprints outside my window,
Was enough to let them know
What I had heard...