The truth has always been out there, away from trodden paths. A girl like Stella would know. Yet, considered at daylight things often seem less complicated, than hours later, when the sun did set already.

Now, lost in the woods, with no stars to find orientation, strolling away from the path doesn't seem to be such a bright idea anymore. The underbrush was covered by a rooftop of dark, gnarly branches, which rocked in the howling wind that was driving the low hanging clouds before it. And through all this even the light of the moon had difficulties to pierce through.

The wind dragged at Stellas clothes, while the rain made them stick to her skin, as she would stumble through the underbrush, whose branches looked more like knotted lifeless limbs and hands, which reached for her, as she was passing by. The whole forest was filled by strange rustling noises, that mixed with the sounds of the local fauna. And it was not just the chill of the wind, the wetness of her uniform clinging against her skin...it was this acustic coulisse, which made standing still almost impossible. Who knew what kind of creatures were hiding in this forest...

There weren't any though, the conscious mind would insist, the school woulnd't dare to have anything dangerous for the students on the island. But fom the inside of her fears the subconscious mind always added: "But what was this rustling then? Or this strange sound you just heard?"

And there was always the hope. The hope that just behind the next few trees the school area would begin, and Stella could return to her room, take off her wet clothes, take a warm shower, drink a hot tea, choclate or something similar and then vanish under the blankets that covered "her" bed.

But of course, behind the next few trees there was just this: new trees and old fears.