Dana Richardson was a quiet 20 year old college girl. She wasn’t much for talking and didn’t have a lot friends, besides her college roommate and a few from her classes. She had messy black hair, bright green eyes, and flat build. She wore average clothing and had glasses that tended to slip down her nose.
She was walking home from a night class, heading back to the dormitory on the other side of the campus. She walked swiftly down one of the paths back, preferring not to be out after the sun had set. “Just need to get back...” she thought to herself, “Don’t want to be out now…”