^Virginia^D1 {WIP}

(I want to win). Blood bolts through my veins, never daring to slow down as they charge through me, burning, screaming, pushing me forward. (I need to win.) Heat bounces, dances, and hovers making the air I dare push through seem like a jungle rather than a field. (I will win.) And with a inhuman scratch I do. Legs burned into nothing, arms hanging like lynched men, and chest heaving its final breaths, I win. (I'll always win.) The race is over, but I am not done. Push, push, push... too far... too far... and my head hangs, and my lips part and the world spins as I empty my weakness, empty the workouts and hours spent training. I empty my doubts to the ground, for victory is too sweet for them. (Worth it, always worth it.)

"You won." his voice is stone, everlasting, never changing, never ebbing nor flowing in the waves of emotions that rack the rest of us.

"Yea..." (Breathe) "I..." (Gasp) "Did..." (Wheeze)

His eyes are cold, not in the wet, rainy type of cold, but February's cruel grip type of cold, where birds hide and children's noses leak. I've learned to enjoy the cold, grow immune to the void and generate my own heat. Years of nothing but empty eyes caused undeterred growth, filling emptiness with attempts at wholeness. (I'll be my own parents, my own siblings, my own friends.)  He's always been this way. A distant figure that blends with the horizon, making me aware of his presence, yet never close enough to feel it. Father was always a cold man, always a shapeless form of stone, unbreakable. (Just like me) It's his approval, or lack of, that makes the burn worth it. It's his cold glare warming, his stone form relaxing, his diamond heart cracking, that makes me run. He makes me run, but I make myself win. (So I hope.)

"You didn't go a best time, Virginia." her voice is chalk, my ears, blackboard.

(Mother never was one for encouragement) It's a statement. A statement. But its my downfall, my fall from grace, my deathblow.(Forever improving, strive for greatness, never stop, never fall, never fail) I've failed. It leaks into my pores, self loathing inching within me. No, no, no, no, I improved... I have to, I have to,  I have to, I need to be better, I need to improve, I need it. I have to. Dear Ripred, make her be lying, make her stupid painted face be leaking lies, let the time be wrong. I can't fail, I can't be a failure, (My brother already covered the role of fuck-up.) I want the smile, I want the flash of love, I need it. Dear Ripred, I don't think I can do this, I need something. Crave for those flickers of something other than the stone that cocoons my parents, crave for the human under the statue. (You'll get them next time. Next race. Then. You'll get it then)

I nod, platinum hair yanked up, tight and neat in a bun, drips of determination dragging their way down my face and causing the blond to darken into a pasty brown. I nod, I accept, I know. (Failure once again.) I