Silent Scream

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The shovel had passed from grip to grip. Some were hesitant, tentative. Others more assured. No one resisted and no one spoke.

The innocence of the life taken was known to them all but the pact had been made. Their secrets would be buried.

Five heads bowed towards the dirt, visualising the body beneath soil that already glistened with fresh ice.

As the first flakes dusted the top of the grave, a shudder threaded through the group.

The five figures dispersed, their footprints treading the trail of a star into the fresh, crisp snow.

It was done.

Teresa Wyatt had the inexplicable feeling that this night would be her last.

She switched off the television and the house fell quiet. It wasn’t the normal silence that descended each evening as she and her home gently closed down and unwound towards bedtime.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting on the late night news. The announcement had already been made on the local evening news programme. Perhaps she was hoping for a miracle, some last-minute reprieve.

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