Caught

He moves silently, swiftly
Through the old Victorian house.
Never alerting the people to his presence

Stealthily he moves in and out of rooms
Avoiding the obstacles that hinder his progress

Turning the corner, the stairs loom above him
Like a never-ending tunnel.
A sigh escapes his lips and
He begins to climb

With one foot firmly ensconed on the first step,
He places the other on the next
And a groan seeps from the old wood.

Coldness washes down his spine and his shirt
Clings to his back

At a stand still he waits for a sound to ring out
Telling him his presence is known.

Nothing happens.

He continues his trek knowing that at any
Moment the enemy could be there.

He finally reaches the top and satisfaction
Courses through his body

He's almost made it

Hurriedly walking down the carpeted hall
He sees a bedroom on the right.
He reaches out and touches the sleek, cold steel
Of the door-knob
It twists
The door swings open.

Steathily, he slips inside, closing the door silently behind him
His head falls onto his chest,
His body slumps against the door.

Calm once again he flips the switch lying
Innocently against the wall.
Tingles scrape across his neck
As an awareness that he isn't alone
Makes him stop dead.

Slowly he turns around and faces
The glacier in his mother's eyes

He is CAUGHT