"Who's there?"

The phone rings, and she jumps. A rustle and bustle Upstairs something thumps. She freezes, her heart racing, she's scared. Something’s changed, she feels deranged, Croaks out, "Who's there?" Shaking, quivering, her jaw goes a-chatter. For the bat she reaches out, cries of help she wants to shout, Lucky, Lucky, she is that she's an ace batter. Slowly, so slowly she climbs up the stairs Creaking and weeping, She whispers, "Who's there?" Slowly, quietly she turns round the corner, down to the hall CLATTER, SHATTER, It sounds like something is being mauled. It’s coming from the room named “Daddy’s Lair” Crying and trying Not to shout out, “Who’s there?” Screams of a struggling woman cry out Moaning and groaning She hears her daddy shout. She opens the door, bat raised higher than her hair Eyes blinded, don’t want to rewind it She knows now who’s there. She’s frozen, her feet rooted to the place, Shaking and quaking Viewing naked man and woman’s orgasm face. And so the girl zooms back down the stairs Quick as lighting, tears she’s fighting, Wishing she never asked “Who’s there?”