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The girl woke up on the beach as a cold wave washed over her. Sputtering, she looked at her hands. They were blue, criss crossed with half-healed cuts. Her whole body was like that, even her black sweats and Seagull’s t-shirt ensemble was torn in places. Another wave crashed over her feet. She got up, hoping she wouldn’t die from hypothermia. There’s no glory in that death.
Depending on where she was, she might only be a few blocks from the house. Walking a few blocks vs walking a few miles would definitely make a difference. She checked her one piece swimsuit for gaping holes and tears. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t look like she had been attacked by a shark. She went back into the ocean, and watched her sweats and t-shirt flow away. She jogged away from the beach, trying to make it seem like that was her normal daily exercise routine.

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