I can’t look like this!
The women’s bathroom door exploded inward at interstate rest stop number thirty-three along I-70 heading west. A trembling, terrified and blood-soaked blonde-haired woman in a tattered red dress, with a black garbage bag over her shoulder, leapt inside with incredible speed. Her head snapped back and forth along the row of bathroom stalls and her heart dropped pace a notch to see she was the only one in there. She spun around and grabbed hold of the steel paper-towel dispenser on the wall. A feverish tug and a twist allowed her to cleanly cleave through all four steel bolts that anchored the dispenser into the concrete wall as if they had been nothing more than soft clay. She mashed the solid-steel dispenser inwards with her bare hands and bent it crudely into a rough wedge-like shape. She spun around and shoved the mangled dispenser under the door, jamming it shut against anyone who could possibly want to come in from outside.
She threw a garbage bag full of clothes and tools harvested from her newly obtained vehicle into the corner and ripped off her blood-soaked dress revealing her supple naked body, rendered less sensual by the glistening blood that covered it. She then paused to stare at herself in the mirror. She trembled in terror at the sight. “I can’t look like this.” She said to her reflection. She looked to the left and she saw that the clock on the wall registered the time to be 4:57AM. She hoarsely whispered “I can’t look like this. Day will soon be here.” Her hands shook as she clumsily twisted on one of the sinks and desperately began splashing the ice-cold water across her skin. It stung and pained as it struck her, but