R-P-Porter

One night, having no one to talk to and nothing to do, I stood in our family room and turned on the TV.  I'd been avoiding it for a long time, terrified by what I'd probably see, but I'd become more lonely than I'd ever been before.  I needed someone, a person's face, a voice, anything.  I couldn't get rid of the cold pit of terror in my stomach anymore, couldn't sleep.  It had been days since my parents came home and I found myself straining to sense their car pulling into the driveway, or any car, but it seemed the neighborhood had evacuated. When the TV came on, there was nobody on it, only static.  I changed the channel.  Static.  Anoth