just a character developed for a roleplay u m u
This is a girl who's given up on getting first place-- in fact, she gets herself disqualified due to the fact that she didn't make it to the race at all. She's just not good enough, she tells herself, so she might as well not even try. This is a girl who exists, but doesn't live; she goes through the motions of the day: wake up, wash face, eat, go to class, eat, go home, do work, eat, sleep, but never finds herself in the same place as everyone else, and she, well, she hates it. Her frustration swells up inside of her like a balloon, growing and growing with each minute, each second, with no outlet, no release, no soothsayer to calm the storm. She herself is a contradicting, conflicting human being. When she speaks, her weapons are made of truth, sharpened to a point and ready to strike, but her words sound softly like sugar snow, unheard. She begs to be noticed, but her body restricts her, keeps her enclosed, shouts at her, "Pull away, pull away," and she does. She runs, biting her teeth, a jagged streak of red falling from her lips, a battle scar, one that fades as quickly as the wind, but returns swift, like a dog to its master, and she feels it, regret, oh, so much regret, and she decides that no, she never wants to feel it again, and so, she dashes up the time-worn stairs and into her tower, then slumps against the wooden entrance to her room. She's been here many, many times, but she decides that now, now it's different. Now it's permanent. She wipes the red from her mouth and locks the door.