With no place else to go, Brittany left the room and crossed the hallway. Standing outside the door her hand immediately went to her pockets in search of the key, only to find she had none. Remembering what Sally had said he/she checked her bikini for her key, finding it nestled between her bikini top and left breast. She hesitated, and gingerly touched her breast as if to confirm that it wouldn't bite. She glanced around herself and seeing no-one around and no other choice, she poked her fingers into her top. The sensation of feeling her hand on her breast was somehow alien, like the feeling of a recent haircut.
Once the key was in her hand she hastily unlocked the door, her heart beat faster and she rushed into the room and slammed the door behind her with her whole weight. There was quiet as she stood back to the door, chest hammering. Her attention went to the room she'd just entered. If it weren't for her ordeal it would have been very pleasant, with a crisp clean beige overall look without seeming sterile. A large king size bed lay against the wall to her left, an en-suite next to the desk and television, and a big glass patio door led onto the balcony. The glass doors were open, and the breeze brought a pleasant coolness to the room and rustled the palm trees outside. It was peaceful.
Brittany hardly noticed the serenity, and after doubly ensuring that the door was locked she slowly walked over to the full size mirror out of morbid curiosity. A young woman peered anxiously back at her with a searching look. Adrenaline still rushing through her system she reached up and touched her hair, then her jaw, receiving the same sense of dysmorphia as before. No exit strategy presented itself, quietly she wondered what to do next.