It hit much harder than the others. Losing the prized sense of touch was making me lose my mind, even though I was aware it was coming.
My hand was right in front of me, I could see it, illuminated by the glow of the boat. I could see it perfectly, but I could not feel it.
I could move it, instinctively. I could rub my hands against one another, but there was no response.
It was pure silence, a silence unlike any other. It's confusing, it's nauseating, so much so I can't resist the urge to puke, or rather, am unable.
I didn't even notice the fluid coming up my throat and exiting my mouth until my eyes saw my hands covered in it. I can't feel anything.
Not within my body, nor outside my body. I'm completely cut off from feeling. It's as if I'm cut off from the proof that I exist.
There isn't any numbness in my body; there is nothing. Exactly nothing.
'Am I even touching the boat?'
