She sits by the burning light,

Pouring her soul into pages.

The blackness of night surrounds her,

As the flame burns it's essence away.

The light flickers, almost to a quit,

But nothing had moved, not a single twitch.

Looking around the murmuring kitchen,

Only the hum of teh refrigerator lives.

Something in the back of her mind is gnawing,

Raging in her normal senses, warning.

Hairs on the back of her neck stand,

Over and over they repeat their misgivings.

Swoosh, the door opens with no knock,

As she flings herself to the floor.

Step...step, her fingers wrap around a fold up table.

Step...step, the intruder comes nearer.

Step...step, she cries out and lifts the piece above her.

Her sister looks taken aback and the girl, herself, is flabbergasted,

As the table reaches the floor once again.

They hug like all sisters normally do,

When her sister pulls out the knife and slits her throat.

The girl had thought it was her sister, but, then again,

Her sister has been dead a year...or ten.