She grabs onto the pole of a stop sign, and clenches her fist around it as tight as she can, and lets her elbow unfold and her arm stretch out right up until the moment that holding on would require to break her gait, and then she lets go and lets her arm fall to the side, and that's when she starts screaming.

She screams the word stop.  Then she screams the words stop fucking walking.  Then she screams the worlds what are you doing you stupid fucking bitch just stop walking.

Stop, she screams.  Just stop, stop, stop, stop it, stop it.  Stop.

She balls her fists in her hair and shuts her eyes and grits her teeth so tightly that she can feel them squeak against each other, for a second.

It's a slow, leisurely pace.  Not like she has somewhere to be.  Not like she needs to get away from something.  It's a lazy stroll, like she's enjoying the sights and sounds.  Like she just decided to go for a walk through the park.

She's not going for a walk through the park.  She's walking straight down the street, away from her house, in the middle of the fucking night.

She can't stop.

She can't speed up either.  She learned that half an hour ago, when a car screeched to a stop and honked its horn at her twice.  If she trips, she'll pick herself up, and already be walking again by the time she stands up straight.  She follows the road as it curves; she can't turn at intersections.  She tried, obviously, to wrench herself to the right once she got to the first crossing, to just take a walk around the block, or a dozen walks around the block.  She failed.  She walked straight.  She was perfectly capable of looking both ways; but she could already feel that she wasn't going to stop, if there had been a car coming.  And, indeed, when there had been a car coming, she hadn't stopped.

She can't stop.

"Stop walking."  She says it in a low mutter, glaring at nothing.  "Stop walking.  Stop walking, stop walking stop walking STOP WALKING - "

"STOP"

"STOP"

The sun's coming up.