Hannah
I was dead.
It could be the only possible explanation as to why I seemed to be flying over the ocean, moving fast.
Blinking my eyes, I craned my neck to look up. Nothing but the sky above. Yet I could feel something tight about me. Not so tight it hurt but tight enough that I couldn’t move my arms pinned to my side.
“Am I dead?” I asked the nothing. Because there was nothing but the sting of the wind on my face, salty from the ocean.
A chuckle rumbled above me, so loud it sounded like thunder.
Definitely dead then if the weather itself was answering me.
Death wasn’t so bad; it was oddly calming even if my battered body was wracked with pain.
“You’re not Dead Hannah stop moving about I don’t want to drop you”
“Wren?”
“I mean it Hannah stop wiggling; it tickles”
So not d
