ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ - ꜰᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ ᴏɴᴇ
Harley is an upcoming talent in the sport, but her opportunities for a better seat seem to vanish in front of her eyes despite winning the Formula Two championship for the second time in a row. Her gender seems to...
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TW: Mention of a crash
Her hands were firmly wrapped around her steering wheel, her knuckles turning white underneath her gloves. The girl's jaw clenched as she looked in her mirrors, the bright red car of her teammate barely a second behind. He was only a couple of points in front of her in the championship, if she could just hold her position she could still win it. The loose grip she had on that first place hadn't completely slipped out of her hands yet, she was fine.
Focusing back on the track in front of her she took a deep breath, only a couple of laps to go and they'd be even in the championship.
She was winning.
The girl took every opportunity to keep the gap she had as big as she could while her tires were slowly disintegrating from the hot concrete below. The strategy the team gave her really biting her in the ass right about now. The girl was driving on the limits the entirety of the couple laps left, her teammate had been giving the favouring strategy, but Harley wasn't that easily beaten. She had braked a little later than usual, her car making a little wobble when her teammate suddenly appeared in her mirrors very close behind her.
She was still in front, so she was okay.
Until she wasn't.
She didn't have the time to process what was happening when her car started buckling from underneath her, the concrete wall suddenly too close for comfort. Her hands frantically flew away from her steering wheel when she realized her car had no front left, her eyes tightly shut as she waited for the impact.
Everything went in slow motion, the wait for the impact took ages and then the Ferarri slammed into the wall, the breath getting knocked out of her lungs as her seatbelt tightened around her chest, crushing some ribs. Somewhere faintly she could hear muffled voices, but nothing processed as a second hit left her without air once again.
Her front tires were scattered somewhere on the track behind her, the left side pod was completely destroyed and her car was leaking fluid everywhere.
Her eyes stared blankly ahead, not focusing on anything when her car finally came to a halt. A high ringing in her ears made it impossible to focus on the voices in her ears. Her breathing was shallow and uneven as several people now stood around her car.
Had she lost consciousness?
Something in the back of her mind was screaming at her to get the fuck out of the car as the smell of fuel attacked her nostrils, but moving felt impossible. Instead, she slowly peeled her eyes open. Her hands were vividly shaking as she looked into the cracked glass of her lopsided mirrors.
Her teammates' car reflected back in her mirrors. His car completely destroyed and barely recognizable as a Formula One car.
The sight made her sick in her stomach and her breath got lost in her throat at the agonizing screams coming from the wreckage.
Somewhere, faintly, she could hear someone ask if she was okay.
"I'm okay, please help Charles first."
And if that was the biggest lie she'd ever told anyone, no one mentioned it.
