shaking, she holds herself up by the frame of the door
she's unsure of whatever hell the black shadow in the corner is
it could be a trick of the light
it probably is
but God forbid it be that simple
it grows
it trembles along with her
she hears a car door unrelated to her situation undoubtedly
but God forbid it be that simple
the car door brings more of them
maybe not a car door at all
maybe they're desperately trying to get in
the shadow has grown a face at this point
a twisted one
it resembles the cinnamon left in her bowl of cereal this morning
it makes sense to her
she feels a gust of wind on the back of her neck
it's probably from the seven fans running and the three open windows in her house
but God forbid it be that simple
it's behind her now
it's no longer in the corner no matter how hard she looks
she has to get to her bed and everything will be okay
under the covers
where it will be warm in ten minutes
where videos will play to drown out the house settling
where she will forget to finish her homework because moving might wake them up
where the mucus in her mouth will make her gag but the bathroom light is off and she can't risk it
where smell of cold air can't touch her because she's under the blanket
like in a womb
all she needs to do is move
ten more steps
but God forbid it be that simple
