Young Writers Society

It walked down the empty street
Windows, shut tight before its passing;
Only slices of light made it to the road.
It bounced up and down slightly as it walked
I peeked out from behind white old fashioned curtains
A chilled feeling swept the neighborhood
Please not my house, please not mine,
My mind cried out as the figure came closer,
Continuing the same pace.
My heart ached, nerves raged,
Dead silence filled the air.
I shut the curtain tight, holding it together.
A creak came from the porch
Releasing a scream from within my mind.
A loud knock froze me,
It came to my door
I had no choice,
No reason too;
No reason not to.
Reasoning became beyond me,
My hand squeezed tight around the knob,
I welcomed death into my house.

Hello,
I thought that your poem was intriguing and I liked the suspense. You must forgive me but I feel that I can't comment on your punctuation because I am not good at it myself.

A loud knock froze me,

This line seems a little bit odd to me.
I think it would sound better if you said something like:
With the loud nock I was frozen,
Petrified of the monster outside.
Good luck and keep writing,
Fiction.

Greetings,
I found your poem quite gripping, to the point where I found myself in a stagnant position of suspense. Your style of writing is quite admirable, I have to commend you on that. However, I have to tell you that the concept you used, has been used countless times before. Originality is one of the devices you have to employ when writing any literary work.
Death, in all books is always a bad thing and, it’s always portrayed as a diabolical entity that has no end. It always preys on the weak and strikes fear into people. What would make your poem even better is if you could change that notion, and maybe make death the victim. Have death stand at its curtains and welcome you into its home with its palms sweating and heart racing…something like that.
As I said, I like your writing style and your story telling abilities are admirable too.

//Abyss.