Author's Note: At this point, the story's a song fic, but I don't know if it'll stay that way or even change songs in the upcoming chapters. Disclamer: I don't own anything you recognize. The characters belong to George Lucas and the song's Creed's. Lines form on my face and hands

Lines form from the ups and downs

I'm in the middle without any plans

I'm a boy and I'm a man

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked hard at his reflection in the mirror, trying to recall a time when he hadn't born the scars of his chosen career. The five years since Qui-Gon had taken him as an apprentice seemed like so many more, and he couldn't imagine life without his master by his side. His hand reached up, tracing the scar running across his cheek, and he sighed. The scar would, with the right treatment, heal, but he would forever remember the terror of the vibro blade crashing down on him. All to protect some Senator on the way back to his home planet. True, the pirates hadn't attacked because the Senator asked them to, but he certainly hadn't been much of a help. He had become angry when Obi-Wan had dared to bleed on him, and had even attempted to force Qui-Gon to make him tea before stabilizing his dying apprentice.

Now, halfway to their destination, Obi-Wan questioned his master's decision to continue. The Senator was rude, self centered, and arrogant. He didn't see why they owed him any favors, especially after the way he had treated them in the aftermath of the pirate attack.

I'm eighteen

and I don't know what I want

Eighteen

I just don't know what I want

Eighteen

I gotta get away

I gotta get out of this place

I'll go running in outer space

Oh yeah

At eighteen, Obi-Wan felt more lost than he ever had. Even more lost than he had when he had left the Jedi on Melida/Daan. The man he called Master seemed to have become a whole different person, changing from the man he revered as a father to a cold, distant stranger who seemed to want nothing to do with him. Obi-Wan had tried to understand the sudden change, to come to terms with having his close connection to his Master ripped away for no reason he could fathom. He couldn't bear the situation any longer, and he had begun to consider running away as the only way out. Shaking his head as if too clear away such thoughts, he pulled a knife out of a small leather pouch he wore inside his tunic and held it up, examining it. He had received the knife from his parents when he left for the Temple as a baby. How fitting, he thought, that my last reminder of the life I could have had will be the end of the one I'm living. Raising the knife high in the air, he brought it down.

**PLEASE Review, I want to know if I should keep going!!**