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She knows her name, if not much else. She knows her name is Mary Ann and she should be dead but she's not. She wants to scream in rage and impotence except she has a gaping wound in her stomach that is slowly bleeding her out. She remembers the knife and she thinks that it must have nicked a lung. Either case, she's drowning and it's not in water.
Only dust and dirt cakes around her nose as her face is pressed against a stone floor. Her vision comes in and out of focus as she struggles to keep herself awake. She knows she's forgetting something important but as she hears the sirens in the distance she takes comfort in that maybe, just maybe, she'll survive this.
She knows her name, if not much else. She knows she has a brother and that her name is Mary Ann. She knows she should be dead but she's not. And maybe, just maybe she won't be.
She closes her eyes when men in uniforms rush into the ruin of the old church and hope that please, god, let something go her way for once.
Finis