I'm sick to death of this. I don't care what happens!" She cried. She jumped into Lake Michigan feet first, even though she couldn't swim. As it turned out, the water was shallow and she could walk with her head above the surface. The lake was unusually warm, and its liquid absorbed her violent spasms of fear and carried them away. She remembered it as the day she broke her fear apart. It was also the day an inexpert cast made by a fisherman on a nearby pier hooked Pumpkin in the back of her thigh. She hadn't felt it right away, only when the man pulled on the line. The hook wasn't deeply embedded, so she easily yanked it free, but the resulting scar would be livid in colour and trouble her whenever she was afraid.