I don't know where I am
or how I have gotten here
but it was dark and stank.
I could hear him following me, playing a game.
His breathing was in time with my heartbeat,
pulsing and radiating.
The house is hauntingly familiar
and I know where the stairs are,
(were)
but I can't see them.
I felt the terror rise in my throat,
threatening to release a scream of panic,
of drowning,
of pain.
But that would only draw him near.
The Stairs! I had found the stairs.
I started my ascent, reaching the top
not a moment too soon.
I felt the whoosh of air as his hand
(claw)
make a grab for my ankle.
The Door! I had found the door.
It was heavy and old, not yet rotting away
as the rest of the house had done.
My Salvation,
my Exit,
my Freedom.
My heart raced, thudding in my ear.
I knew once through that door
(unfound)
I would be free.
I opened it, creaking loudly in the
deafening silence of the hall, slipped inside.
Darker still in here than out there.
Quieter still in here than out there.
I closed the door behind me,
(quietly)
pressing my cold face against the aging wood.
I think I escaped.
But where was he?
Where did he go?
A voice from behind,
"I am already here."
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