People change. And change. And change, and change. It's all just part of Men's twisted plans to it's journey towards a non-existent perfection.

The lily pad bounced as pressure was put onto it, sending ripples breaking the smooth, glass-like surface of the water. Streaks of orange, yellow, silver and other mix of colours darted out in a flurry of shock from under the giant leaf, trying to escape from some non-existent danger from a young child in a white dress and an over-sized sun hat. Her blonde curls bounced and its delicate strands stroked her porcelain face as she gazed down into the crystal clear waters of the lake. With big, blue eyes, she stared up to her only companion and questioned it aloud,

"What are those moving squiggly lines Mr. Winfred?"

He just stared back with his cold black eyes, her image perfectly reflected in those glass orbs of his. Mr. Winfred body shook a little as a breeze blew past. The little girl stood patiently, waiting for an answer.

"Mr. Winfred? Mr. Winfred? Did you hear me?"

The little girl was now on all fours on the strong lily pad, stretching out her fair fingers towards her friend, her blue eyes as big as saucers. She frowned when she yet again did not get an answer. Reaching yet even further, she pushed her protesting muscles to stretch even further,

"Mr. Winfred? What's tha-"

Her right hand caved under her, her head plunged downwards at a speed that crudely disallowed any noise to be made as he made her decent. Her ascent was countered by the unmerciful waters, pulling her down again and again, just like how clothes were scrubbed during the old times. Flailing like a disoriented spider, she screamed, and screamed and screamed to the desolate surroundings. Even the air stood passive, watching this seemingly amazing show of a drowning girl. Mr. Winfred just kept his straight gaze on the horizon, with not a single care in the world. Soon the girl could not be seen anymore, with only a trail of bubbles indicating that she was once there.

The surface stilled once again, regaining it's smooth composure and it's slow moving, peaceful underwater life. Those blue orbs, still haunted by shock, betrayal and panic locked its gaze on the sky in a never ending glare. Nearby, a dark curtain fell across its windows. The landscape, which was reflected against the glass, was once again, silent.
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Got back my results. And with every paper I held, I had the urge to slap myself. I shan't elaborate on the who, what, where, when, how, why.