No, that would be improper

You can't help her, but that doesn't mean you have to be a creep about it. You tiptoe away from the door so that no one hears you from the other side (not that anyone is listening in for you when there's fresh warm meat screaming outside on the porch).

Back in your room, you can still faintly hear the screams, so you put on earplugs, and a huge pair of noise-cancelling headphones. Your mp3 ran out of battery long ago, so you're not even listening to music. You use the last sunrays of the evening, coming out between two wooden planks on your bedroom window, to read the first Walking Dead issue, a comic book you've read over fifty times by now. Sometimes you wish you'd picked out different reading material for your prepper stash. And sometimes, you're grateful, that at least there aren't psychopaths cutting off your hands.

Eventually, you manage to fall asleep. If you're lucky, your porch will be quiet again tomorrow morning.