Waiting

• Elsie Richardson, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2009

Like a lamb to the slaughter she slowly turned the door handle,
Not knowing what was on the other side.
With a gentle push the door creaked open,
She knew she couldn’t hide.
Her heart skipped a beat as she saw red eyes,
Glowing in the dark.
She started sprinting down the hall,
She was quick off the mark.
Without glancing behind her,
She ran back the way she had come.
When she found the door was locked,
She knew that she was done.
Finally, the figure caught up,
And started to grin.
He reached into his pocket,
Knowing that he would win.
He drew out a sharp, silver knife,
That gleamed under the moonlit sky,
It had finally occurred to her,
That she was about to die.
He cut a slit through her neck,
The blood trickled down and she drew in a sharp breath.
She closed her eyed and started waiting,
Waiting for her death.