Jack drove down the country road, it was a very hot autumn day, actually it was almost winter and snow was already announced for the coming days, but today it didn't look like it. The thermometer showed a whopping 25 °, which gave Jack every reason to wind down a window, accompanied by squeaking noises. Trees and fields passed him, the old radio was playing, mixed with a monotonous constant noise, Hotel California (you don't have to listen to the one on the left, but I will create background music for certain scenes, then it just works better http://www.youtube .com / watch? v = kv6Vy4Hr30s) from the Eagles. Jack whistled the melody a little while he followed the monotonous course of the street. At the roadside the fields became less and it was more and more undergrowth and even more trees that towered up there.
After a while, a huge forest stretched in front of him. The trees were tall and had broad crowns, making it difficult for the sun to shine through the leaves. Suddenly the temperature dropped and Jack cranked up his window, but shortly before it was completely closed, the crank broke off. "Junkyard!" he cursed and pulled up his jacket. His Renault Clio was no longer the youngest; he had received it 3 months ago from his parents together with his driver's license. An old, faded red cart that threatened to fall apart every time it was started. He hated the thing, but it moved him from place to place, at least until he had enough money for a new set of wheels.
So he drove through the forest for about an hour and slowly got the feeling that this would never end, but at that moment he was through. During that hour in the forest the weather had changed. A gray blanket of clouds pulled over the sky and it was quite cold outside. He pulled over and tried to fix the crank to close the window. When he did it, there was a vigorous knock on the window of his passenger door. He winced, then he shot into the upright position, at the same time his sun visor dropped down and he hit his head. He groaned and then looked at the window. A boy grinned at him, maybe a year younger, pointing to the door latch. Jack looked at him confused, then the boy lifted a cardboard sign with three letters "W E G" on it, Jack understood and let the boy in.
"Hi, I'm Ben, I hitchhike because my parents suck, are you going to take me with you?" "Uh ..." was the only thing Jack managed to get out of the car, but he locked the car and drove on, which was probably about one 'Yes' was to be compared. The radio played What it's like from Everlast (http://www.youtube.com/watch? V = SwoNQvSOxM8) and Ben suddenly started talking. "My father drinks and beats my mother, and now and then me too. My mother has often been to the hospital with broken bones or the like, but she has to stay with him because he can get the money.He deals different things, so he has a lot of enemies. There have often been dark figures around our house. It's enough for me. They didn't care about me anyway. They were no longer interested in me. I also had to get myself food, so I decided to just run away so that I could have a better life. "


(http://www.youtube.com/watch? v = 2vgBaRGKSpo & feature = related)
Thess, or rather Theresa, was on the bus. In her hand an envelope that was torn untidily. She is leaving the message for the tenth time: "Dear Theresa Waltz, we would like to inform you that your last relative, your great-aunt Irmtraud Moose, is different. We would like to convey our sincere condolences to you. Your great-aunt also has her house We therefore ask you to visit Dirmist and at least have a look at the house. If you are not interested, you can return the key to the village community center. Yours sincerely, Greenert law firm, Alfred Greenert "

° Dirmist, definitely a village of two hundred souls, what do I want there? ° Thess was an orphan, her family did not know her and she was only told that she was happy that she was still alive. She didn't think so, because being completely alone is almost as bad as dead, at least she thought. She looked between her feet, where there was a little bag with a few faded clothes in it, she had nothing more. The bus she was sitting in was already very old. With every bump she had the feeling of jumping through the roof. This line did not seem to be used often. A little further in front of her sat a plump man in blue dungarees and a checked shirt who had placed two heavy sacks on his next-door seat. And right in the back sat a very old woman in a thick coat with a hat and a little dog on her lap, the dog whimpered the whole journey and the woman slowly stroked it with her old, wrinkled hand.

The bus driver was also relatively old, he wore thick horn-rimmed glasses and his shirt, which was probably once white, had now turned an ugly yellow color. Again and again he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed uncomfortably loudly. In between he gasped out the names of the next places in his dry but deep voice.

After a while she dozed off and only woke up again when a hand gruffly shook her, "End of the line, young lady, you are in dire mism". Thess was startled, saw the bus driver in front of him and with which hand he had touched her. Inevitably she shook it. "Yes, thank you ..." she managed. Then she took her bag and got off the bus. Outside an icy wind swept through the street and she pulled her jacket closer to her, even though she had got into the car when the weather was so fine.° Well, winter is just around the corner ... ° Then she turned once around her own axis and let her gaze wander over the village in which she was, or at what she could see. Then she took the note out of her pocket and read the address. "End of the line ..." she repeated the first word from the bus driver.