A/N: Welcome all to my new story, To disturb the Stars! My first and only Star Wars fanfic yet-and I hope it will be good. It is a re-write of Anakin Skywalker's life, and starts the night before Qui-Gon and Padme find him. But rest assured that this is not a mindless re-write-it's a whole new story that just starts the same. This came out of my love and hate for the prequels, and to see if I can write better than George Lucas-which I cannot, by the way. This story will be divided into parts. I also changed a lot of relationships-I must warn you, Watto will be nasty-and I mean NASTY! Kitster will also play a bigger part. Chapters will be REALLY short due to trouble with pacing, and will gradually grow larger as I begin to speed the plot up. The prologue is the smallest, it's tiny! You will also notice the title in the second line-that is intentional, and no, I'm not trying to scream it into your face. And the prologue's tone is much more heavier then the first chapter's and on-I mean, the narrater is completely different in age! Well, happy reading!
Disclaimer: I had a dream last night. I dreamt I was a man, a movie director. I was confused, then I realized that I was George Lucas. I was in heaven. Until I woke up to find that tragically, Star Wars does not belong to me.
I cannot breathe. My lungs are forced to exhale, and inhale, and the sound produced is enough to disturb the stars. But I no longer feel the fresh air soothe my throat or taste the purity of it, oxygen that keeps every human being alive. For me, however, it is not so. I am not alive for I do not live. I do not even exist. I operate.
There was a time when I did live. But that man who I once was has hidden from me. I believe I frighten him, just as I frighten the entire galaxy and the only one who will not flinch while talking to me is the one who has robbed me of my identity.
No, he helped me by doing so. It was my goal to inhabit this body, to speak with this voice that cannot be heard, to see with these blue eyes that can only make out red. I wanted this.
But now I need to go back. It is laughable, at the height of my power I am the weakest I have ever been-maybe the boy is braver than I previously believed.
But, as someone wisely said, don't look back. You cannot look back; it will only be the cause of your death. That is what both he and I believe. Yet sometimes, such as now, I can hear the whispers of the Force, and my mind drifts away, to times when these horrors belonged to someone else, someone I never could understand, and to the good times, through the bad. Bittersweet memories such as when….