You pull up to your drive and turn in towards your house, the gravel crunches under the tires as you come to a stop. You leave the car running for a moment, the light from your headlights the only illumination around. You keep forgetting to change out the bulb on the front porch, but the only time you’re reminded of it is when you pull up after work. It wasn’t a big deal in the summer, when the day seems to last forever, but the sun seems to set earlier and earlier each day. It’s almost pitch black, and it’s only 6 o’clock. The little light reflecting off the house illuminates the inside of your car just enough to gather your things before you turn the key off. The bitter cold is shocking as you open the door and leave the warmth of your car. At least you remembered to where a sweater this morning. You got that going for you, even if you can’t see where your walking. You skip along the pavers and climb the stairs to the front door, reaching for the knob. Your keys jingle in your hand as you try to find the right one in the dark. You finally manage to pick the right one, and feel it’s way into the lock, the sound of the pins racking as it slides in. You turn the key and that’s when you hear the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. Quickly over the pavers, up the porch steps, before you can turn a hand covers your mouth. A sweet chemical aroma fills your nose as you gasp for breath through someone’s hand. You feel them hold you tight against their chest, preventing your struggle as the world fades from your view. The door opens and you fall through to the floor. You should have changed that bulb, you think to yourself. Your eyes close as your dog runs up to you to greet you hello. You should have changed that bulb.