I rummaged through the drawer of my desk, trying to find something, anything, to rant to.

My hands touched volume after volume of my filled journals.

If anyone ever wanted prood that I was a loser, they could just check out all the diarys I'd vented to.

I think I must have thrown about ten of them into a messy pile on the ground before I found a blank one.

I looked it over.

It had a hard, black cover with intricate, goth-looking writing in the middle of it that said 'Diary'.

How… original?But I remembe ed buying this one.

I didn't usually, but this one was special.

It was about two years ago I remembered.

I bought it from an old man in a supermarket in Transylvania.

Ok. I know what you're thinking.

What the heck was I doing in Transylvania?Well, if you MUST know, it's a really long story.

And probably the reason I remembed distinctly buying THAT journal of all of them.

The shortened version is… I won a trip to Transylvania in a raffle held by a local Alternative radio station.

Believe me, it was the first and last time I'll ever be out of the country.

Just the IDEA of my parents wanting to take me anywhere for fun makes me laugh.

They HATE me.

But I really don't want to think about that right now.

I feel like I shatter into a million pieces everytime I do.

Don't ask how I got them to let me go on this trip. They put up a HUGE fight. The MAIN point is, I did get to go.

I try not to think about how hard it was.

That just gets me mad at my parents.

And getting mad at my parents is pointless because it just makes them mad, and then we have a big mess.

I hate messes.

But I'm awfully good at making them.

Anyways.

This old man was selling one journal.

Yes, A journal.

Not two.

Not three.

Just one.

That was all.

He looked very sick and poor and I had pity on him.

He told me it was his last possession and that if I wrote in it, it would grant my wishes.

Likely story, but I bought it anyways.

And I forgot about it as soon as I got home.

Until now.

I was hurt right now.

Angry.

Upset.

I needed something.

I needed hope.

It made no sense.

That old man had seemed so truthful that day.

So he was either a really good liar, delusional, or telling the freaking truth.

It SEEMED insane, but I decided to try what he told me.

Yeah, I KNEW it wouldn't work.

But even the absolute craziest idea that MIGHT POSSIBLY get me away from my paresnts was worth it.

I opened my journal to the first page, took out my black felt tip pen and began to write.

"Take me to a long time ago (away from my PARENTS! Away from expectations of being perfect, away from RULES)… In a galaxy far, far away (away from my SCHOOL, away from other KIDS, away from WORK, away from my PEERS)… Directly into the lap of my Prince Charming (whom I've never met the likeness of!). And DON'T let me come back until I'm 18 and can be on my own (only a year away at least…)" I scribbled in my semi-neat handwriting.

After I'd capped the pen, there was no wait.

Immediately I was falling, falling.

In that moment I was in the air, my heart was pounding with fear, with disbelief, and a feeling I cannot describe to you, but kind of like when you're in a dream and don't know it but you know what's going on can't actually happen in real life. Surreal maybe.

Dream-like.

Infact, the minute I landed on someone's lap I decided I MUST be dreaming.

I blinked.

I looked around at my surroundings, in a complete trance like state.

I was at a meeting table.

There were men dressed in olive green suits and sailor caps… much like the ones in the 'Star Wars' films I watched and was utterly OBSESSED with age seven through ten.

In fact, the uniforms looked so much like the ones in Star Wars I knew it couldn't be a coincidence.

It must BE Star Wars.

Wow.

What a weird dream!

Seeing as I hadn't watched those movies since I was 14 and babysitting some eight year old boy.

I hated knowing that I was in a fream.

I hated that feeling.

I think everyone does.

I could be wrong.

But of all the things I could have been dreaming about, this was an awesome one.

I had always wanted to talk to Darth Vadrt.

I'd had the strangest crush on him, I remembered, from the time I first saw Star Wars, til when I was ten and quit watching them.

And I had to admit, I'd had a couple feelings for him even when I was fourteen and watching that boy.

I was weird like that.

Maybe now I'd get to!

If my subconscious mind would be so nice…

But for now, I did the strangest thing.

I started to laugh.

I noticed all eyes, which were now even more speculative of me then they had been when I first landed on Mystery Man (Prince charming I guess, haha)'s Lap.

Wait a minute.

Who's lap?

Who was the Prince Charming of my subconscious mind?

Probably…

"Vader?" I guessed out loud.

Then immediately, even though it was only a dream, I covered my mouth in embarressment.

"What. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Doing?" a deep, dark, vampire-like, stong, melodic, baritone voice asked me.

Unmistakably.

Darth Vader.