The screen door clacked shut behind her as Hannie huffed off into the yard. Mosquitoes hummed in the air, but Hannie was too mad to care. She stomped her slippered feet, squashing the yellowed grass.

Their house, a tumble-down brick cottage, backed onto the woods. They weren’t supposed to play there. There were stories… about crazed escapees from a mental institution… children disappearing… strange noises… But Hannie didn’t believe anymore. “Stupid grown-ups. They always LIE !” She bellowed and with balled fists, she marched forward.

There was a holey hedge that hemmed the property. Hannie stooped under it and powered into the darkness, shoving aside the wild thoughts that buzzed through her brain. Her rage was red-hot, it sizzled and fizzed. Her fingernails bit into the soft skin of her palm.

After a while, she stopped dead and spun around to face the house. A canopy of hunched trees blocked her view, Hannie could only just see the roof and a speck of yellow light in the attic window.