Beads of sweat dripped down her neck and forehead.

The bags under her eyes were significantly highlighted because she had turned pale as Casper the Friendly Ghost.

The dark circles were indicating that her last few nights were dreadful; not that last night was not that good either.

She covered her face with her palms as she breath heavily, trying to relax herself from the traumatizing dream she had. She could hardly think rationally.

After a few minutes of sitting on the bed doing nothing but breathing, she got up and went along with her usual morning routine.

She prepared her homemade lunch along with an extra lunch box.

The smartly dressed twenty-four year old lady walked out of her front door, locking it behind her.