The World's a Fine Place

Refuge is sought in the crawlspace beneath a loose floorboard.

"I'm afraid."

"Hush dear."

Bated breath as footsteps move down the hall.

Closer, closer.

"Mommy."

A hand is clasped over a mouth.

Whistling comes from the hallway.

Closer, closer.

Stop!

The footsteps, the breathing.

Only the terror remains.

A door creaks open.

"Clau-di-a.

Ro-o-sie,

C'mon out.

I know you're in here.

Don't be scared."

Silent tears run down a mother's cheeks. The stench of whiskey fills the room.

Could the neighbors have heard the screams?

Would they call the police before the gunshots rang?

Was this world really worth fighting for?