I Never Wanted to Be This Tragic

Anna had raced back from town as quickly as she could--she was clumsy and uncoordinated, and having some trouble with breathing and running at the same time, but she'd made pretty good time for all that because--well, because she was terrified of what she was going to find when she got here and terror gave one wings, it seemed. It had taken her two tries to get into the dorms, but by the time she crested the stairs to the second floor she'd basically forgotten that lesson in her panic, which was why she ran full-tilt into the door to her room--and, of course, rebounded, clutching at her nose. "Ow!"

Then she tried the doorknob and remembered oh, yeah, she didn't have a key. Because she was in the wrong body. (Also, she usually didn't bother carrying the key around anyway, since it wasn't like she needed it. But that was beside the point.)

"Hello?" she called softly through the door, both afraid of waking Stacey if she was in there and...well, afraid of what else might be in her room. "Are...is anyone in there?" And more importantly, how inexplicably homicidal did they or did they not feel right now?