Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Authors Note: I am really on a Star Wars obsession-fanatic craze so I thought I would try what I had in mind. I am currently working on a popular Harry Potter fic, but I would like to see if this works out. I am obsessed with Anakin Skywalker. I truly am. I am in love with the actor Hayden Christensen, and his character, emotionally, relates to me. I would most definitely end up being a sith, which would be cool. Anyway, here's the first drabble! Review and no flames please!
Anakin, nine years old, leaned against his bedroom wall. He was fixing a droid that would help tidy up the small den he and his mother shared.
He loved feeling the supremacy of controlling something. If there was one thing Anakin loved most, would be power. He loved to satisfy his irritation and anguish by grabbing a chunk of old metal, a few power converters; instantly he has created something.
It's not so much the final project; it's working on it that gets him through all of the rough times in Tatooine.
Anakin felt the rust against his callused fingers, the metal he had stolen from Watto was wearing. It doesn't trouble him one bit, stealing. Especially when he steals from Watto…that lump of blue lard should give him hundreds of dollars worth of scraps. The hell that he goes through everyday should be worth something. No…he was worth something…a nice ship in return for a slave. He would do anything to be free.
Out of no where, he felt a rush of energy flow throughout his body, almost as if glowing. He paused and winced, causing him to drop his tool and gasp for air.
These terrible headaches have been going on for weeks now…a better image appearing every time.
These "flashes" that he was having were bits and pieces of something…something he knew in his gut would happen.
There was a man…a mysterious man, who seemed to have secrets and burdens ridden all over him. A strange, gangly creature stood next to him, tripping over something…probably his own feet. Yet, every time he would see this image, this girl…this beautiful girl, would come in full focus. Her every detail was sketched into his brain ever since his first painful experience a week before. An angel, she was.
He rubbed his temples, concentrating on the vision. It did disconcert him of where these visions were coming from, but honestly…if they do come true, he would find out soon enough.
They are coming to free us. Anakin thought, earnestly. But why?
He wrinkled his nose in effort to find out more, but the image became fuzzy; what he had foreseen moments before was lost once again.
"NO!" He screamed, throwing his tool to the far side of the wall, ending with a crash.
"Every time; I lose it! I need to see more…I need to know more!"
He was exhausting himself by concentrating so hard that he started to pant. His head felt like he was crashing in a pod race. Flame-like heat ached all the way down to his feet. What was happening to him?
Just when he started to see a picture form, his mother, Shmi, barged in.
"Ani! I heard a crash…oh, Ani…you're burning up! What's going on? What's happening to you?"
Anakin sighed and grabbed the sand from the gritty floor and squeezed it tightly; it almost dissolved from the heat.
"I wish I knew"