It's been a while since you got off the bus. The last one running tonight. It's been so long that your shoulders are beginning to ache with the weight of your backpack.
You haven't been here in a while, and everything looks unfamiliar. Somehow, though, your feet know how to get you back to the dorm.
You glance down the street and back. Still not a soul in sight. Distant through an alleyway, the sound of running water suddenly, and then it stops.
The noise is innocuous but you pick up the pace. The dorm is close, your feet tell you.