It was a grey, rainy Saturday in April when I first met her.

I was on my way back home with a bagged lunch when I decided to cut through the park instead of around it. It was a bit more damp this way, and only a few minutes faster, but I suppose I was seeking a change of pace.

It only took three steps of my shoes sinking into the muddy grass for me to regret it.

Still, I wasn't one to let a little mud stop me, so I trudged on, holding my head high, fixing my vision very firmly at the sidewalk several yards distant.

And of course, completely missing the depression three steps in front of me, and tripping over its contents.

Instinctively, I stretched my arms out, in a sort of airplane pose, and bent over hard, trying to grasp the remains of my balance and not spill my lunch.

I succeeded, but was sure I looked ridiculous doing so. Luckily, i had thought, no one was dumb enough to stumble through a muddy, rainy park to see me.

Except, of course, for the body I had tripped on.

I noticed it upon turning around to see what had caught my shoe.

At first glance, it appeared to be the body of a naked woman, partially caked with mud, her long dark hair messy, wet, and clinging to her skin. The depression was made by her lying on the grass, partially sinking into the mud.

I swallowed hard.

On a closer look, however, it became clear that she wasn't a real person. Her head was too large, almost the width of her narrow shoulders. Her deep, brown eyes were disproportionate as well, matching the anime feel she was probably made to evoke. Her wet skin shone in the rain, too perfectly smooth, clearly made of plastic. Raindrops splashed against her perfectly shaped, nippleless breasts, pooling between them, instead of partly soaking through as they would on human skin.

I don't know how long I was staring at her, under that deluge of rain. I didn't stop until I realized the paper bag I was holding began to disintegrate.

I swore under my breath and turned toward home, holding the bag with both hands, trying to keep it together. Just a mannequin, I thought to myself. Nothing to worry about. Only crime here was littering.

As I walked, I could've sworn the muddy squishing sounds my shoes were making were beginning to echo.