Shatter to Emptiness

Summary: She stands alone, with her empty mail and her medals of gold.

Note: Last I checked, there were only about two things in this category, so . . . I guess I'm doing pretty good? Anyways, it's my birthday as I'm writing this… Which is the 28th. Except, now it's being posted on the 29th . . . Oh well.


A child – though not in looks but perhaps in mindset – sits on a couch in a rather defenseless, defeated position, and stares into the golden eye of flame. How easy it would be to just reach in . . .

No, she cannot afford to lose focus again.

But there were so many voices . . .

No. No. Get a hold of yourself, she thinks.

But this is easier said than done. Because this is Victoria Faust, and she's been defeated.

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"You stupid girl!" She sees a mother hit her daughter – at least, Victoria thinks that it's her daughter – and she flinches. It's only television, of course – she's not all too sure it's called television, to be honest – but it still gives her chills.

Because, once upon a time, it was like that for Victoria.

But she doesn't spend her life wishing on happily-ever-afters.

(She'd much rather order medals instead.)

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"Something's wrong with her," the neighbors whisper to each other. "She's crazy." And Victoria Faust was crazy; she was something short of insane, really.

Normal children – well, teenage girls, really – don't really buy trophies to fill their waking hours. It's like that disorder – Victoria didn't remember disorders much – where people eat to fill their stomachs instead of pain. She bought her trophies to fill the pain of voices.

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Victoria Faust buys trophies because she's not right in the mind.

But you knew that already, didn't you?