The cold morning wind moved gently in all directions over Lark’s body, which shuddered when the wind touched her skin, giving her the chills. The songbirds were heard in the surrounding environment and the first rays of the sun hit Lark’s face, hurting her closed eyes; forcing her into opening her sleepy eyelids that had been crusted shut by the small droplets of salty water that had remained between her eyes after she had shed many tears.
Lark had a resentful expression on her face. Resentment that penetrated her skin, traveling rapidly through her veins until it reached her heart. Transforming her in a dramatic way, until she stopped looking like a girl and became a harpy capable of hurting with a vehement desire.
I ran without stopping until I got to the room where we were staying in and my sister began to laugh at me because I still had foam on my head and without allowing me to say a word, she grabbed me by the arm and led me back to the water stack where while using a washbowl she began to pour lots of water down my head, saying; “This is because you fear water and by doing this maybe you will learn how to bathe yourself.”