He picks up the phone
He dials 9-1-1
He waits as it rings
Then answers
"911, what's your emergency?"
"Help me, she's coming!"
He whispers quickly, hushed
Fear flooding his face
Like rain pouring in a storm
"Who?"
"My sister, she's coming!"
His voice breaks
He shuts his eyes tightly
"Remain calm, tell me your location."
He rattled of the address,
Turning, he hears her
Coming up the stairs
Coming to the attic
"Brother, are you there?"
Her laughter rings out
"You can't hide from me! "
She giggles
He turns off the phone
Quietly, quickly
He crouches low
Seeing her shadow
In her hand,
A knife
Her hair,
Wet and matted
Her shadows gone
Then her giggle sounds
He turns on horror
Her knife raised behind him
The sirens are coming
But it's too late
"Found you brother!"
But he lost the game
YOU ARE READING
My Poetic Nothing
PoetryYou ever feel like you just need to write and nothing else matters? Ever feel like you have to get those thoughts out on paper? Ever feel like writing is the only thing worth it all? I've felt those before. These are my poems and I hope you enjoy. ...
