Recap
I was at least four feet away from the water when five figures appeared, sirens, peachy, just peachy. The last thing I remember was each of them biting me like mosquitos and ripping the skin off my flesh and taking me under water where I drowned.
I was dead.
I really was. Dead. My breathing stopped and my heart pumped its last. For twenty four hours. I was dead.
-The Next Day-
Syria's P.O.V
The next morning my eyes opened and the first thing I saw was white. I thought I was in heaven, until I looked around taking in my surroundings. I was on a beach. There weren't any beaches in heaven, were there?
I stood up and called for help but there wasn't a single reply, not once. I was stranded and alone on an island, but I'm dead. Well, supposed to be. Was I, or was it all a bad dream.
A sharp stone came into few so without thinking, I cut my hand with it. If I was dreaming I'd wake up. As soon as I cut myself pain swept through my body. I was awake. I wasn't dead. I was alive, but how.
The pain reminded me of all I went through last night. My hands quickly made their way to my neck to where I had been bitten. The marks were gone, there wasn't any pain. Something was going on and I knew it had something to do with being bitten.
I paced up and down the beach trying to come up with an answer but each sounded crazier than the last. From the corner of my eye I spotted my reflection in the sparkling ocean.
It made me stop in my tracks and stare at it a bit longer. What I saw almost killed me.
