i don't know how but you found me /areto

Salt and water washed over her again and this time she was vaguely aware of it. It was the sound of crashing waves that brought her back, explosive and soft all at once. Her brow furrowed and she placed a hand on the sand beside her. It was wet to the touch and packed down hard but still, there was a bit of give to it.

Something sticky caked the left side of her face, making it hard to open her eye. There was sand in the lashes of her right. Her hand came up, shaking slightly, to brush it away. Sand fell away from her cheeks with the movement, whatever it was that was glueing her eye shut, it was dry. Tentatively she shifted her weight so that she was sitting, facing the water.

She picked at the dried substance on her face carefully, every small movement giving her pain. It felt as if her body had been through a lot and as she worked at the glue, she tried to remember what had happened to her. With her brain pounding, it was hard to think, let alone remember anything. The girl sighed and rubbed the last bit off of her eye before blinking hard, eyes adjusting to the harsh morning sun.

If she tried hard, she could remember darkness, cold and hurtling forwards with no control. The girl shuddered and brought a hand up to her forehead tentatively, hand searching for a wound that had to be there. Flakes of muddy red were now glued to her nails and the pads of her fingers. It was blood, her blood, it had to be.

A hiss of pain jumped from her lips as she found what she had been looking for. A jagged tear broke her skin just under her hairline. She winced slightly and then explored the wound with her fingertips gently, trying her best to ensure that there were no foreign objects embedded into her skin. The wound was sandy, as everything else was. Her clothing was caked in it, her hair in near dreads from saltwater and sand.

She gazed at the ocean in front of her. There was the idea of land barely on the horizon and otherwise nothing but sparkling water as far as the eye could see. The beach surrounding her held a few clues. There was some broken wood at her feet, not driftwood. It was painted white, the better half of three broken pieces of cedar. A piece of rigging was rolling up and down the sand with the tideline.

Her shoe was missing.

She looked down at a bare foot beside one clad in a tennis shoe. She couldn't decide what was worse, trying to figure it all out barefoot or in one shoe still sopping wet from a nighttime swim. The rest of her seemed alright despite the sand. Movement hurt but she brought a hand slowly over her waist and then her chest. She seemed intact. The girl winced again though, her head drumming louder than the waves crashing against the shoreline. Everything seemed a little foggy now but after some rest, she was sure to remember what had happened to her.

Although, it probably wasn't so smart to sleep with a head wound.

It seemed that she didn't have a choice. Her eyes were closing and her head was falling back against the ground before she had time to notice the blood coating the sand around her.