Writing Prompt

The thumping of feet on wood. The crunch of feet on broken glass. Closer with each step. Directly behind me. It all goes silent. My breath is caught in my throat as I ball up further, sitting here with my back against the wall. Why I decided to hide near a window I don’t know but a cabin invasion is not something that happens to me often.

A chance a look up. A mistake, because there it was, stari...