“One, two, three, four…” Melanie whispered to herself, half prayer, half command as peered out her bedroom window into the night. So far, all the houses were lit along the upper ridge, snuggled against the snowy base of the mountain range that both protected and isolated their little valley.
“…five, six, seven..”, she continued, willing the windows in the other houses to be shining with what had to pass as hope this deep into winter. At seven years old, Melanie did not fully comprehend the relationship between action and responsibility. Her light counting ritual held the weight in her tiny heart of destiny, as if she could stop the next light from burning out through her vigilance.
She craned her neck to the left, and saw only one house lit up towards the far embankment. Yesterday there had been two. Melanie squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. It must have been the Meuller’s house. Stephan had been in her class at school. Now he and his sister Anna were gone.
Melanie was lucky, she had more than enough food in her cellar to get her through the winter. It was supposed to have been for her mother and father, too, but now that she was alone… She would share it with anyone who wanted some- she swore she would- but nobody dared leave their houses. Not since the strange sickness started picking them off, one by one.
“…eight, nine…” Melanie resumed her tallying. She felt a twinge of something, something she was too young to put a name to. She knew she should have shared. Shouldn’t have run round the town dripping the poison into everyone’s grain. She would apologise when spring came, if she just kept counting.
Off to the right, another light flickered out.
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