Left Behind

Silence, dead silence, broken by short sniffles and the echoed sounds of tears hitting the wooden desks. This is the soundtrack that play as our last thoughts of her die a painful heartbreaking death. I look at the seat that used to be hers, the seat that used to be filled with her smile and her laughter, her eyes that sparkled are her hands the danced across the desk as she shuffled those damn cards. The seat that was now filled with nothing but silence, dead silence. The silence was tangible it became a toxic gas that was colored with only our memories of her. It engulfed the room, it rose from the seat and weaved in between the students she had left behind.