This is my sorry story for those who follow On the Run and A Bundle of Hope. I wish there were more hours in a day.
It was my b-day yesterday and the other day I got to go to Star Wars: In Concert as a gift. It was awesome.
Anyway, I hope you like this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Obi-wan opened the letter. It was so odd to get actually written mail. It had mysteriously come from a bounty who had seen him in a cantina.
To probably dead Obi-wan,
Outside it is dark. Night has come. A deadly silence hangs over the hut where two days ago there was so much life, so much dear life. I am sitting on the floor trying to catch the light from the camp across the hut to a patch on the floor. It is a dull patch of bluish light and it lies my paper. "They" are sitting in the camp-"They" the murders. I am in the dark, alone in the dark, just as my heart and soul will forever remain in the dark and in the light of those criminals; the light of their crime illuminates the paper to let me write about their deeds.
Do you know what happened? No, you don't know. After the slaughter of us, I took refuge at Shili and buried my lightsaber. I blended in perfectly. My parents took me in. Did you know I have sister? We look so alike. She is only a few years old. Yesterday, yes it was yesterday, early in the morning we heard a lot of noise-screams and crying and begging for mercy. Quickly my father and I ran down the back stairs to hide in the basement, while mother and went to get the baby out of her crib. She was sleepily rubbing her eyes. She was so small, she did not know that you had to be watchful even in your sleep that night and day you must be on guard, quickly go and hide. Maybe she was dreaming of toys she never had. Maybe my mother did not wake her fast enough, I imagine how she stood rubbing her small blue eyes, when the murders entered in their blue and white uniforms and took them both, my mother and sister. She must have been so scared. Her doll lies on the floor now. She must have dropped in her sleep. From the cellar we heard bone chilling screams.
Why does the universe go on when things like this happen? We heard distant screams for agonizing hour after hours. Never stopping until the sun was hiding behind the hills that the shrieks and screams fell into silence. We hoped and prayed the Mama and Aisici had found refuge somewhere.
After it had been dark for hours we crawled out of the basement. The house was empty. Empty was our hut, empty the huts of all our friends and that of the togruta male I had loved. Where are they? We went to all the huts. We met a few ghostlike people who were swaying as if coming from a different galaxy. In one house we met an old man dressed in a sacred garment that one would wear to a funeral of a great person or many people. He was saying the prayer for the dead. We begged him to tell us what happened. He looked at us wide-eyed, pointed his finger to heaven, and continued to pray. He was like a person I had seen in my nightmares after the Jedi slaughter. Just praying for us. Finally, we met a young togruta who told us the tragic tale. All of the togrutas, young and old were brought to the middle of the village. The murders made them take off their clothing and lay on the ground next to each other. They then took the walkers and trampled over the screaming live pavement. The trampling killed most. After the initial thirst of the sadists were satisfied, those who remained were made to dig their own graves and then they all lined up on the brim of the grave until a hail of shots killed them. Strangers embraced as their bodies went on to sleep forever.
We went there. Nobody caught us or cared. The moon was shining. We saw a great square grave, half-open yet, a mountain of bare bodies init. Many we recognized. Too many we recognized. We found my mother. Bloody and crushed. We did not find my little sister. I found Hurrom, the one I loved more than life, who was to be my husband.
I kissed his face, blood and all. Not one tear did I shed in that grave though. Only my heart died. Do you know what? If they would come tomorrow and killed my father I would not care. I would not cry. I would be glad for him. I wish they would kill me. I will now walk with my true markings showing. Not hiding anymore. I want them to kill me because I don't care. There is only one thing that could stir within me. I want a blaster. I want a vibroblade. I want my lightsaber. I want to kill, just kill. I have not feeling. It won't be a crime. Maybe it won't even give me satisfaction, but I want to kill.
Kill them. The traitors. Him.
What are we waiting for? My father is growing older. He hasn't spoken, or eaten, or slept, or cried. He is watching me while I write this. He is like an animal. I don't think he knows me. My sister's little doll is there. Looking at me with her eyes. Her once silly smile has seemed to turn into a frown. There is a little heart embroidered on her. There are no hearts. All hearts are dead. How does one bury a heart? I am writing something to you. It's good to tell it, but who are you? Are you alive? Didn't they murder you? Too bad if you too have died because you would not get this letter from a girl named Ahsoka who has a dead heart.
A girl who once could feel,
Ahsoka Tano
Obi-wan never heard from the girl again.