Footstep on the stair

She was breathing heavily,
Looking through the crack of the door,
She heard footsteps on the stair,
Saw a shadow on the floor.

She scrambled to the window,
But got there too late.
He swung open the door,
This man full of hate.

She fumbled for the dresser,
Yanked out the drawer.
Took the gun and shot,
But missed and hit the door.

Only one bullet left,
At the thought of this stood still.
He was getting closer,
Now at the window sill.

Staring at her smiling,
Glinting was the knife.
He had only one intention,
And that was to take her life.

She was cornered now,
Standing on her own.
Maybe the neighbors had heard it,
And had ran down to the phone.

But now it didn't matter,
It was all in vain.
By the time they got here,
She would be dying of pain.

She was in a sweat,
She could hardly stand.
This was a sweet psycho,
With a dagger in his hand.

He got to a point and stood,
Raised his shaking hand.
Brought it down sharply,
Didn't care where it would land...

Joanne closed the book,
Tired she did seem.
Hoped this haunting book,
Wouldn't terrify her dreams.

As she lay there silent,
Heard a noise and went to the door.
She heard footsteps on the stair...
She'd heard this before...