| It’s late at night
|
| The house is dark
|
| The T. V. Glow won’t let me sleep
|
| A noise is heard
|
| I’m filled with fright
|
| The doors are locked
|
| I’m sure I’m sure
|
| A feeling hits me
|
| What’s going on
|
| Did that shadow move or was it me
|
| Is this real
|
| Am I asleep
|
| What was that
|
| I check the phone, no it’s not dead
|
| That would suck there’s no one to call
|
| Those horror movies play with my mind
|
| It might be a burglar, or even worse
|
| I can see it now in tomorrow’s paper
|
| «Boy axed to death while alone at home»
|
| The thing I’m scared of is being scared
|
| Courage prevails
|
| I’ll check it out
|
| Feeling down the hall
|
| For the switch
|
| The light comes on but there’s nothing there
|
| That window’s open now what do I do
|
| Did the psycho enter here or not at all
|
| A slow pace draws me to the window
|
| I shut it tight and draw the shade
|
| I turn around silhouette slams door
|
| I freeze in terror, a light clicks on
|
| I wake in shock stiff as a board
|
| It feels like spiders are in my bed
|
| Ten minutes later I start to breath but I’m being watched |