The person who lands next to her does cry though. A backpack, half-open, spills out a hockey skate, a stuffed owl, and a phone. Though his head swims, the owner of it reaches for the owl.
His arms hurt. His head hurts. Everything hurts. Is this what it's like? Being dead? He thought the pain would go away. He thought it'd be done. Campbell cracks open an eye. He'd felt more than heard Hoot fall; he'd landed on his hand. So Cam reaches -- though his arms hurt the most -- and holds the little stuffed owl.
Like lightning, he thinks. Like being struck by lightning. Maybe. He cracks open an eye, to get a look at non-existence, and--
His hand is-- Something's swarming around it. More than just his hand, his whole body. He yells again, even louder, and scrambles back, into-- someone on the floor.
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His arms hurt. His head hurts. Everything hurts. Is this what it's like? Being dead? He thought the pain would go away. He thought it'd be done. Campbell cracks open an eye. He'd felt more than heard Hoot fall; he'd landed on his hand. So Cam reaches -- though his arms hurt the most -- and holds the little stuffed owl.
Like lightning, he thinks. Like being struck by lightning. Maybe. He cracks open an eye, to get a look at non-existence, and--
His hand is-- Something's swarming around it. More than just his hand, his whole body. He yells again, even louder, and scrambles back, into-- someone on the floor.