Who Am I?

Death wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Asides from the fact that time had lost all meaning, it was all just dull. Boring. Blank. Devoid of substance. Empty. She didn't remember who she was, not anymore. It was all black here. No light, no substance. Only her thoughts to accompany her as she felt like she was just drifting. What was her name? Who was she? Did she have hands? Feet? Skin? There were so many questions she couldn't answer, but she did her best to answer them. Anything to occupy her mind in this expanse. Mental exercises were the only thing she could do. Explore different ways to describe the things she did remember. At one point she had remembered her name, repeated it every day so she wouldn't forget. Time saw to it that she would.
Death was just lonely and empty.
She could feel. Fingers. Counted them to make sure she had ten. Same with her toes. She had a face, eyes despite not being able to see, ears despite not being able to hear. Was she actually incapable of seeing or hearing, or was it just where she was? She knew she died. Knew there were other people. Not with her, but she remembered that there were other people. Friends. Family. Her hands ran through her hair, something to give some kind of comfort, before she felt her eyes close.
Sleep. Dream. They could at least give her something to do in this endless darkness.
