This is suburbia after all...

Watching from across the yard
All the lights are off
Silence hides behind their curtains,
It would seem the house was asleep
No worries, no problems, just quietly dreaming
No one would expect any differently
This is suburbia after all.

The clock chimes with one a.m.
It’s getting late, go back to bed,
The screams were just in your head
Hyperactive imagination plays heavily with nightfall
Take the pills and lay back down,
Nothing bad happens here
Suburbia is a peaceful bore after all.

But those screams had to be real
Imaging something so ear blistering is just,
Impossible—right?
Maybe just a peak inside,
It couldn’t hurt anything,
If I’m caught, I’d merely say I was looking for Erica,
We have a project due in the morning after all.

Going around back, the door is unlock,
A little odd, but innocent still,
Walk up the stairs, not a sound to be heard
Don’t these people even snore?
Round the corner and shimmering in moonlight
Erica’s mom in her bathrobe, dripping with blood,
What? No! How?

Her pulse is gone, so many wounds
In the next room lies her dad,
Tied down and tortured to death, brother too.
End of the hall I run, not Erica too!
Searched every room, but she isn’t found,
Maybe she got away,
She is smart after all.

Back down the stairs, perhaps she’s there,
The power is out, phone line dead,
Fear deepens within, the killer could still be here—
The curtains breathe with the wind from the window
Living room is cleared, nothing here
But a faint sound beckons from the kitchen,
The question falls, what should I do?

No time to think, it’s already too late
Silver sticks out from my chest, and warmth trickles down
Gasping for breath, hugging my chest,
“Erica” I whisper turning around
There she is, bloodstained hands, face, clothes and all,
To my knees I fall, tears streaming down,
She was my girlfriend after all.

Giggling softly, she quotes me jokingly,
“Suburbia is just a peaceful bore after all”—right?