She walked and she drove. She did not take public transit. By foot or the gas pedal, she got to where she wanted to go. And all she wanted was to stay in the same place, yet her head screamed for her to get away from this horrible place. But there was nowhere to go. So she walked or she drove.
She walked on the grass, she smoked in public places, she fed the bears in the zoo. No one could stop her, because she was her own person. No one else's. Only her's. And she wasn't even sure if that was true. Out there was someone for her to own, and someone to own her. But she didn't plan on ever finding that person, so it didn't matter to her. So she drank the polluted water that rushed out of her tap and went on with her life.
She walked now, for she was out of gas. Water is to the body as gas is to the car, she remembered reading somewhere. Exactly where she wasn't sure, but it stuck with her. The only thought that came to her was snow. She walked without aim, because there was nowhere for her to go. She came to the crosswalk that led to the downtown area of her empty reality, the same crosswalk that led to her release from the boredom and the insanity. The red hand protested her stepping into the road with all its might, but a red hand has only so much influence and power over a person with a strong will.
Everyone says that you shouldn't attempt to fight a truck, for the truck will win every time. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the truck coming. The driver wasn't about to stop, either. Pedestrians don't have the right of way when it comes to dealing with trucks with loud, squealing brakes. So what the hell, figured the driver.
She could see the truck coming, and she remembered the theory concerning person versus truck. But the girl, well, she was intent on proving them wrong. All of them.
And she did.