this morning #1842.

this morning, at the first unexpected sound, he went right to panic mode. leapt up from the kitchen table & fled up the stairs. locked himself in the bathroom. slid a curio cabinet across the floor to block the door. backed up into the corner. held his breath & waited for more noise. the house fell quiet. the engine of a large car revved out in the driveway & then cut off. he stifled a scream. whispered “fuck” on repeat. hoped it wasn’t who he thought it might be. if so, his goose was cooked. at least he’d had a good run. if only he’d taken his dad’s advice. bought a gun instead of believing in the better nature of man. the door slammed open downstairs. then the taunts began. it was him. back to finish the job. shouting out his name.