The loneliest are the dead

The gravestones stood silently, row upon row like soldiers long forgotten. Suddenly a scream shattered the silence. The piercing cry echoed through the abandoned graveyard as the cold icy wind blew past her already rosy red face, tangling together her curly red hair. The deadly quiet was haunting almost as if she could hear the quiet breathing of the deceased and buried underneath her feet.

It's a short story and mostly written for fun.