After the war

Mary

Mary couldn't continue counting. She'd lost it somewhere. The count. 

Sarah M had left the library sometime ago. She hadn't noticed. She should have. Like she should have noticed when Anne and Sarah B had gone out. Or that Michael wasn't there when she'd returned. She felt sorry. But sorry wouldn't bring them back. Not really. She wished they were back. Then they'd forgive her. The students. Her friends. Maybe even her brother. 

Was Sarah M just Sarah now? Because Sarah B was gone. There weren't any other Sarahs that she knew of. She should have asked before Sarah had left. Would she like it? 

No one talked to her. Not those who'd talked before. Except Michael, Sarah M, and Cassie. They'd tried. But sometimes she just zoned out. Like they weren't important. But they were. Important. Especially now. She should stop. 

She walked down the hallways where no one would. Someone had decided that it was a good idea to write the deceased's names in one of them. They should have known that no one wanted to go there. Because it hurt. That they were gone when they should have been here. No one went down there. Except her sometimes. Even those times were rare. Because everyone she'd known, almost everyone she'd thought of as family were on those walls. So, yes, it hurts. That future students would walk down that hallway. A hundred years in the future and maybe they wouldn't recognise its significance. Their significance. To the world. To their family. To their friends. Would they forget? Maybe. Would she remember them when she was older? She didn't know. And that scared her. Because she didn't know. If they'd still be as important to her then as they were now.

She stopped and stared.

Was there blood on the wall?