Left Alone.

Friday night, left alone, in the dark. What's the time? 11 o'clock at night, How long have I been there? Since around five o'clock on Thursday when I arrived home from visiting my friend.
Watching the time tick by, wondering why I'm all alone, wondering who might appear from the shadows, wondering if this flat is actually safe.
Eventually I have to put my mind at rest, surrender my worrying and head for the warmth and comfort of my own bed.
As I slip into bed and lie then still, awake. I feel the emptiness haunt me, I feel my paranoid mind hang over my head, I feel distraughtly freaked out. As I close my eyes I hope this will all be over, I hope that when I awake this flat will be filled with life, with voices which aren't in my head.
Yet when I reopen my eyes, nothing. I run furiously round every room, looking, praying, waiting for the return of my parents and my little brother.
Where are they? Well here's one thing I know, not here.
The only thing I am capable of is panicking, panicking with fright and anticipation. I turn on the stereo not only to calm myself but to make the silent noise go away.
Another day passes. By the next morning, I'm still alone. As I tiptoe down the corridor. I discover the front door has been smashed, there's glass everywhere, I step backwards in fear. As I stare hard at the door I realise, its open by the tiny slight amount possible. I'm not alone.
I gasped, stood there shaking in fear, with a lack of confidence I slowly picked up a feeble broom and headed over to the kitchen. I stopped still right in front of the door, I heard noises, smashing sounds, sounds harsh to my ear. I took a deep breath and opened the door curiously.