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.
"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.)
"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.
Victoria Faust buys trophies because she's not right in the mind.
But you knew that already, didn't you?