She walked through the woods. Beyond the screams that were torturing her head, there was another sound. A continuous gushing. The sound of liquid repeatedly rushing over a solid.
The half-frozen autumn leaves crunched under her bare feet, and she scrunched up her toes, taking soggy mud between them. She felt herself slip, and she fell, hands and knees first, into the soil. She didn't ease herself up from the mixture of cold, dry soil and moist, warm mud. She crawled her way through it, through the muddy forest, dirtying the knees of her lilac pyjama bottoms as she did so.
She was met by a beautiful sight.
She stood up.
She'd never seen water in such a way. The water seemed so powerful, the way it flowed, and seemed to cut at the rocks. How could something so soft and weak, destroy something that would surely get the better of it?
She walked towards the waterfall, which was still gushing powerfully, ignoring her presence. The mud around her had been liquidified, and swam around her ankles. She moved ever so slightly towards the clear, almost white waterfall, and was instantly sprayed with ice-cold water. She hesitantly walked into the ankle-deep pool, where the waterfall was pouring in, and put her head under the waterfall. The power of the water instantly washed away her tears. Tentatively, she put a blood-covered hand under the waterfall. The blood of her friends.
She'd been like water, once. She'd been soft and weak. But really, she was strong. She could get through anything.
When most of the blood was cleaned off, she pulled out the last thing to be cleaned, from the pocket of her pyjama trousers.
A large, bloody knife.
She was water.
Rocks, people, anything of any kind were no match for her.