The Victim

• Alicia Brown, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2009

I’m at the table,
With a coffee laced with
Whiskey in front of me.
She runs past… Trips…
And knocks it to the floor.

She looks up,
An arrogant smirk,
On her face.

I reach behind the door,
Where hanging,
Is the leather strap.
My hand closes around
The worn handle.

It creaks with
A certain satisfaction
As I raise it above my head…