No time to rest

With the twist of the faucet,

I hop down the stairs.

White knuckle death grip

leaves my arm twisting.

As I maneuver over the

Bannister

Crack!

I land on my feet,

a sigh of relief,

no rest just yet.

Quick past the front door,

past the street sign,

which way do I go?

Unbeknownst to what lies ahead,

I place one foot forward,

one step at a time.

“Snap out of it”

Stolen glances here and there

frowning faces loomed

Left and right,

front and back

they keep advancing.

Close my eyes,

drown out the sounds

keep my chin up.

Never look back

for they will never stop coming.

Like what you read? Give Anabelle Summers a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.