A failure.

That's what your parents called you, you were madly driven by becoming an F1 driver ever since you were 6, it really started to hit when you turned 12, it was that kind of an obsession where you started doing things to the perfection, you didn't care that you were a woman, even if you were born as a man, you would've driven yourself to the edge till the last bit of a human being was left in you, you drove like crazy on any track, the moment you stepped into one of those machines, you were one with it.

Your parents, although unconsciously doing it, they drove you to perfection, every bad grade meant you were getting beaten, it was rough, but by 7th grade, you managed to kind of "cope" with it, well not really, doing what they wanted, but instead loosing your last bit of a personality, getting mad easily, having often anxiety attacks, wanting to attempt, it was horrendous, a day didn't pass that you wouldn't feel like just giving up on everything, but every moment of relaxation that you had, you started beating yourself for it, comfort was a trap, the warmth of your bed and phone a death sentence.

At 14 you finally had enough and you left your house, going to Spain so you could start international karting, you won almost every trophy, some would say you were selfish for always winning and some were saying you were a prodigy, Senna if he was reincarnated as a woman, thats how rough your driving was, in all honestly, you kind of took your driving stile from Senna since he is your idol, the short entries in corners and the throttle technique, but the time came when you got an offer in F3 at 15, to your surprise they didn't ask for money... which would've been absurd, although that's what they always do, you got in and for two years you worked yourself to win, every 2nd place and lower meant you weren't good enough, a failure that's what your parents used to call you.

But as you finally turned 17, that's when it came, an offer into F2, the beginning was a bit of an obstacle, but as you got used to it, you completely obliterated another formula... and so came F1 like a wrecking ball at 18. For a moment, they couldn't believe you were even human, but that's how it always was, always being the weird one out, the season started, you did good, starting easy, 10th place, then 7th, continuing to 5th, and so, now, it was the Spanish GP, driving for Mercedes (if u want u can change, edit this if u want to) the race started well, along George Russell, you fought up, getting to 3rd place, but you had to pit, now dropping to 9th place, you thought you still had enough laps, so you fought, taking those turns in that dangerous style of yours, but just as you were approaching 4th place, your eyes widened, one wheel popped off, and then the other, the person behind you had to dodge that deadly bullet, but all of that happened on the DRS zone, you were going crazy fast at 334 km/h, the front of your car turning, seeming like you were going to hit the wall sideways, you braced yourself for the impact, holding onto the wheel and pressing onto the breaks, out of instinct, so hard it broke, but you weren't aware of that, you just tried to brace for the impact, and then BAM, your head was flung in front, thankfully the HANS system stopped you before hitting your head into the wheel, you still held you neck tightly, the whiplash of the air hit like a truck, your breaths short and quick, painful as the air was knocked out of your lungs

your engineer was spouting nonsense on the radio but your vision was blurry and your ears were ringing, unable to make out a word that was said