Gwen was floating in a sea of darkness. She was numb, alone, and frightened. A light appeared in the darkness, and she wanted to approach it. It was safe and warm, calling her in. But something kept her back---there was a pressure on her chest. Sharp and painful, and repeated. She frowned. Why couldn't she leave? She wanted to go to the light. Even as she tried to move, the darkness started to fade, and she felt cold and wet.<br/><br/>The girl coughed and choked, spitting up water. She rolled over weakly and vomited, bringing up seawater and bile. Her thin frame shook hard: she was freezing. Her red hair was dark with water, freckles standing out on her pale skin. Her clothing was soaked through; her simple white shirt was see-through now, showing her underthings. The blue skirt she was wearing was dark and heavy, sticking to her legs. Her feet were bare.<br/><br/>She whimpered and and sat up, wrapping her arms around herself and closing her eyes to obscure the brilliant green of them. "Wh-where am I?" she asked, voice hoarse, but still soft and gentle. Her lips were blue with cold, matching the blue of the bruises that adorned her skin. Her throat was mottled, as if someone had tried to strangle her, and there were dark bruises all up and down her arms. Through the see-through material of her shirt, more marks could be seen.