Her laptop is plugged in, still on, filling the room with a soft blue glow. Evidently, she hadn’t planned on being gone long. It feels strange being here, sitting on her bed, sifting through her things. It’s like I’m an unwanted house guest, an intruder. But I know that the girl who lived in this room, in this body, is already gone. I am all that’s left to fill her place.

***

“Alright, we’re here!” Josh stared expectantly at me as he held open the glass door to the residence hall. I had been gawking at streetlights and cars and buildings the whole walk here. Though I had seen these things in videos, this was my first exposure to man-made structures in person. I shouldn’t have stopped to stare at every little thing, though Josh probably attributed my slow pace to exhaustion. After realizing he was waiting for me, I hastily made my way inside.

“I actually live here too, on the seventh floor,” he said, taking his student ID out of his pocket when he reached a plastic gate.

“Mmm,” was all I managed to reply, too intensely focused on how he held the card up to a black rectangle on the side of the gate. With a click and a beep, the gate withdrew to allow him through. Sifting through Anna’s wallet, I pulled out her ID and mimicked what Josh had done, trying my best to hide my delight that it worked on the first try. We walked down the hall in awkward silence until we reached the elevator, something I was thankfully familiar with from my research.

“Allow me,” Josh said, reaching over to a panel of numbered buttons and pressing those marked ‘2’ and ‘7’. “You must be relieved to finally be home, huh?”

I nodded and smiled, an expression I had practiced many times. “Thanks again for helping me out.”

He blushed. “Any time, I’m just glad you’re safe.”

When the elevator suddenly accelerated upward, I lost my balance and staggered forward. Watching videos hadn’t prepared me for the odd sensation of heaviness followed by lightness. Josh held out an arm, which I grabbed and used to right myself. “Sorry, thanks,” I mumbled, my cheeks turning red. Even though I had only learned to walk a few hours ago, it was still embarrassing.

“No worries. You must be really out of it,” he replied, looking sheepishly in the other direction. With that, the elevator doors opened, and I hurried out.

My next challenge was finding Anna’s room. I walked down the hall lined with doorways, each room conveniently labeled with animal-themed nametags for its residents. I finally reached a door with a single nametag, a white rabbit with ‘Annalise’ neatly printed on it. I attempted to turn the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Recalling the mechanism humans used for keeping out intruders, I pulled out Anna’s keyring and inserted each key into the slot in the handle.

On my third attempt, I heard a click, turned the handle, and entered Anna’s small dorm room. It was softly lit by an open laptop resting on a neatly organized desk. The screensaver depicted a smiling cartoon bee drifting across the screen. To the side of the desk was a small window with the blinds closed. Several small plants were lined up along the windowsill, their pots ornately decorated with painted-on designs. Her bed was unmade, with a nightgown draped across one side.

My first priority was to recharge Anna’s phone. I had seen enough tech reviews to know vaguely what I was looking for. After rummaging through her desk and checking under the covers, I found a white cord peeking out from under her nightstand. After plugging the phone in, I turned my attention to the laptop. After pressing a key, the cartoon bee was replaced with the picture of a sprawling meadow. In the center of the image was a white box filled with text that read “Enter PIN”. I sighed and closed the lid. This was a problem for another time.

Making my way over to the bed, I changed out of my muddy, blood-spattered clothes and into the nightgown. Intending to only rest for a moment, I laid my head on the pillow. Between its gentle coolness, the soft, snug caress of the nightgown, and my own fatigue, I quickly drifted into slumber.