Whispers are what you hear when you thought you were alone in your house

A bang in the kitchen is what you heard when you got up to see if everything was okay

Footsteps are what you heard creeping toward your room, making the floor boards scream,

quiet as a mouse but scarier than anything you’ve ever heard in your life

Terrified is how you felt, hiding under your bed hoping that whatever was in your house would

go away

Dreaming is what you wished you were doing, hoping that the door opening and the tall man

with a mask snooping around your room like a spy was only your imagination

The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth from biting your lip to keep from

screaming

Screaming is what you are doing as the man looks under you out from under it, a tornado

of force pulling on you

Kidnapped is what you are when he puts a sack over your head and throws you in a car

like a ragdoll, on a journey to a place you’ve only dreamed about.