ice cold permeated her brain, sending a blast down the spine that resulted in a jolting of the head, neck snapping back, black hair tossing water across the room. Water ran down the sides of her face and dripped steadily from her chin to her hands that still gripped the bucket. Her eyes glazed over staring out into the room but really into a nothingness.
It felt good. Shock was the only thing she was used to these days. So she welcomed it, called to it — actively sought it out. It was crazy, manic energy, but it was survival.