It was silent. So, so silent. The silence that fills the void left by the dead. I could only assume they were dead.

But not just dead. They were frozen.

And the temperature had to be above 60 degrees, it was muggy outside.

“Sherry?” Danielle asked, “On your way home yet?” I could hear muted laughter in the background.

There was a mother, shielding her child in front of me. It seemed she would stand as a guardian forever; she was motionless. I felt goosebumps spread across my arms. I was in shock. The word petrified came to mind.

“Sherry?” Danielle asked again. The laughter was gone now.

I reached out to the small redheaded girl she had wrapped in her embrace and touched her cold, slick hand.

“You guys, I think something’s wrong,” Danielle told our friends after calling my name several more times; louder and louder.

You can say that again, I thought to myself. But Danielle wouldn’t have heard me if I had been able to speak.

The phone went dead.