Chapter 2
"Faith isn't faith until it's all you're holding on to"
By: Anonymous
When I woke up this morning, I realized my pallet was wet. And then I realized it wasn't just my pallet. The entire bottom of my cell was covered in a shallow pool of water. It seems my friend the water drop has grown. I wonder, does anyone up there realize? Probably not. I feel the urge to laugh hysterically. I'm going to drown down here, and likely no one will know until it's too late. Not funny, I know, but the urge is there.
It shouldn't matter. At this point I should be glad to die. But I'm not. This is not how I want to go out. I don't want to make it so easy for my enemy. I don't want to slip quietly and unnoticed into the next life. I want to go with a roar that will make him shake in fear. I feel the heavy weight of impudent anger sitting on my chest. I released it in a heavy sigh.
Fascinating, for a moment I fancy I can see my breath. I shake my head to clear it of the confusion. It is cold in here, though. It's always been cold, but not like this. Perhaps it's just my imagination, aided by the pervasive chill of the cold water that's seeped into my bones. With another heavy sigh, I move to the 'fresher. 'Not much real protection,' I think as I look back and forth between the flush and the small ledge that the hand basin rests in. The ledge is higher, but it is also smaller and looks very uncomfortable. I grab the heavy damp hem of my dress and climb up onto the fresher. After a little finagling, I find I can sit somewhat comfortably on the back of flush with my feet resting on the lid. Not much protection from the rising water, but it is better than nothing.
I close my eyes, leaning back against the hard stone wall. The once steady drip-drop of the water has become a full blown gush. It sounds like a faucet that's been left on by a careless child. I did that once, when I was a very little girl. I had left the water running in the tub when I was taking my bath, and it poured out over the side in a small tidal wave. My mother was not happy with me. I fancy I can hear her voice scolding me, and I smile.
I'm distracted from my memories by the sound of the trapdoor sliding open. I look up and watch my erstwhile companion, the food droid, come floating down into the chamber. I consider screaming for help, but I know no one will hear me. I wonder,even if they did hear me, would they care?
It doesn't matter. I will face my death with dignity. I won't give Palpatine the satisfaction of knowing I died in fear and terror. My jaw clenches in determination, sightless eyes watching the droid moving in the mindless ritual of switching the empty and filled trays on the rough stone ledge. I slide off of my perch, and move slowly through the ankle deep water to get to my tray. I'm not hungry, in truth the thought of food makes me slightly ill, but I will eat. 'I have to keep my strength up,' I tell myself.
For what, I don't quite know.
There was a time when I considered not eating, considered sharpening the edge of one of my utensils on the wall and gouging my wrists, watching them bleed. There was a time I considered escape. But I would not give in to despair then, and I will not give in to it now. Suicide is the coward's way, and if there is one thing Padme Amidala Naberrie Skywalker is not, it is a coward. I think.
In here, perceptions are skewed and you begin to question many things. I will admit that there were times when the silence crept in on me, times when cowardice didn't seem so bad. In times like those, the only thing that really stopped me was a desire to see my children again, to see Anakin again.
No, I am not foolish enough to believe that I will ever see them again. Not on this side of the grave. I was raised in a godly household, taught to believe, as were most people on Naboo, that suicide is an unpardonable sin. We are, and always have been, a people of great faith.
Ah- faith? How can I possibly have faith?
The answer to that is complicated. I will not deny that there have been moments of doubt, moments when uncertainty has crept up on me. That's natural, I suppose. The essential point of it though, is that I don't blame God for my current circumstances. I know that he is not to blame. There are many people to blame for what's happened; Palpatine, The Jedi council, Vader, even myself. But not God. We are all, inevitably, responsible for the decisions we make, and for the consequences of those decisions. Believe me, I learned that lesson the hard way.
Still, one may ask, how could I have faith here?
The simple answer is that I have to. I have to hold onto my faith, especially here. Sometimes, belief is all you have left.