Headlights danced across the trees, the grasping branches reaching out of the darkening depths of an overactive imagination. Every time she focused on them, the offending branches snapped back into reality, assuming their natural form and function once more.<br/><br/>The cheap rental hatchback rolled around another bend as Anja directed it with calm exactness, belying the furious, feverish nervousness she really felt. Emotions were something best kept in check. Still, she couldn't deny a sense of belonging here, as if the place was part of her or she of it. The old haunts she had spent a glorious, too short a time in with friends almost forgotten in the hectic mists of modern living. She hoped they were still there.<br/><br/>A sidelong glance down to the centre console brought here eyes to the small, white envelope. The shock she had felt upon finding it in her mailbox was still there, although to a somewhat lesser degree by now. She had spent an hour just looking into space, her mind roaring through the possibilities and the unfathomable apprehension that accompanied them. Her brother had called by and stood at the door for fifteen minutes, shouting her name until she had had the presence of mind to answer him.<br/><br/>A whirlwind of madness ensued. She had to cancel three interviews and a training date with the Army to get here. Not really because she wanted to, but because she felt she had to. Otherwise she would have felt... empty. There was more self deception there than she would like to admit. Anja liked to think that she was utterly independant of others, but some people made a good, solid impression on a young Danish girl who was way out of her depth in a foreign country so long ago.<br/><br/>Anja shook her head. Why had she even come? Was there a reason? Or was this all some childish fantasy she had concocted in her head? Only time would tell. Her uncertainties were not helped by muttering to herself.<br/><br/>"Det ved jeg ikke. Jeg ved virkelig ikke længere." Followed by a stern internal scolding.<br/><br/>"Få et greb, Anja."<br/><br/>She completed the rest of the trip in silence, glaring through the windscreen at the dirt road ahead. It was over much faster than she wanted it to be. And what's more,<span style="font-style: italic">the car park wasn't empty</span>. She had expected to be here alone, that no-one would show. How wrong could she be about this? Wrong enough, it seemed.<br/><br/>Pulling up and twisting the keys to the 'off' position, she exited slowly, taking the time to re-tie her bootlaces underneath the grey jeans and pull on the leather jacket that had cost so much over her simple blue shirt. There was no more stalling to be done. She had to go now. It was barely fifty metres to the front building, but it felt like a route march with the end in sight but never getting any closer.<br/><br/>She could see a figure on one of the benches, just waiting. Stopping in front of the woman, the slightest glimmer of recognition in her eyes, she spoke.<br/><br/>"This has been one hell of a trip down memory lane, no?"<br/><br/>(Translations: *I don't know. I really don't know anymore. *Get a grip, Anja.)