Cold, so cold.
This was what brought Diria back to her. And when she did, she found herself kneeling in the icy blue lake on the hillside, half-submerged.
She struggled to get her mind working again, concentrating on how she had ended up there in that position.
She vaguely remembered Fiona, her sister, shouting at her to come back, but she didn't listen, stormed out of the house and ran with the intention of putting as much distance as possible between her mother and herself.
Intentional or not, her footsteps led her to the place where as a child she used to play with her sister, the cursed hill, a name given long ago because of the forest as vast as it was dark that covered it all.
Diria raised her head to gaze absent-mindedly at the immense dark forest about four hundred meters away. So many legends ran about it. It was said to be magical, cursed, fairy-like. All those who had the misfortune, stupidity or audacity to enter it came out with their minds damaged for years.
Once, a village chief even tried to burn it to complete the curse, but failed, and worse, was cursed to believe himself burned alive for about a year. A year of helplessness and agony.
Since then, no one has tried to do anything against the forest, or even come near it.
Nobody except the children.
Time passed, and the area around the great forest, stretching for miles, was covered by a meadow that became the children's favorite playground, because it was vast and clean, and there were various little insects and animals for them to play with, like squirrels, rabbits, butterflies, beetles, and so on...
Children like her and Fiona.
Diria was shivering with cold, barely able to feel her limbs.
She knew she had to get out of this icy water, which had always been so as far back as she could remember. Icy and lifeless.
She tried to move, but could not.
Catching her breath, she placed both hands flat in the water and involuntarily saw her reflection.
The reflection of a beautiful twenty-year-old girl with waist-length bluish hair framing a perfect heart-shaped face lit up by deep grey-green eyes, an adorable nose and a fleshy mouth that begged to be kissed, as her old boyfriends had often told her, especially the last one.
The last one who didn't hesitate to betray her simply because she refused to give herself to him until she knew him better.
Her icy fingers, almost blue with cold, tightened as she recalled the scene.
He'd told her he'd gone camping for the weekend with his parents, and when she spotted them in the street on Sunday afternoon, she thought he was back, so she dropped by his place to surprise him.
What happened was the banal but unbearable cliché.
Diria caught him with another girl, but not just any girl, Natacha, one whom she had considered a friend, and not in just any position. They were fucking. The scene had sickened her, but she couldn't stop her body from reacting.
They were fucking standing, belly to belly, Natacha's breasts pressed against the royal blue paper-covered wall, her face contorted with pleasure and physical exertion, while her ex was straining behind her, one hand on the wall, the other squeezing a hard-nippled breast.
They were both so immersed in their sexual act that they didn't notice her presence until the end, and the worst of it was that she, Diria, had stayed until the end, and in spite of herself, felt pleasure.
Watching them go wild, moaning, panting, grunting, screaming, when her ex tensed up they let out an animalistic cry at the same time, Diria realized it was over, it hadn't lasted but seemed like hours at the same time.
Her ex turned his head, trying hard to catch his breath, and saw her. His expressions would have been comical if the incident were, but the incident was not.
First shock, then shame, a desire to make excuses, pride and finally bitter revenge.
Natasha's face was the same.
Diria gave them a look of contempt and condescension before turning on her heels and leaving. But as she disappeared from her ex-boyfriend's house and life, he couldn't resist yelling at her that it was all her fault.
Diria couldn't help wondering if this was really the case.
But in any case, there was nothing more to be done for them.
She didn't tell her family or friends what had happened.
A residue of guilt and affection, no doubt.
It didn't matter, because now she was in an even more serious situation.
She turned away from her sublime but tormented reflection, mustered up all her strength and dragged herself to the edge of the lake.
Her light clothes - a midnight-blue T-shirt and skin-tight jean shorts - were so soaked that she could barely move.
Eventually, she emerged from the water, numb, sobbing without a single tear escaping her eyes.
"Mommy..." she moaned as she lay down on the green, frozen grass.
Looking up at the sky, she saw that it was dusk, and would have jumped with surprise if her body had allowed her to.