Disclaimer: Believe it or not, George Lucas owns Star Wars, all the Star Wars characters
and anything to do with that. And I, believe it or not, are making no money off of this
story. (DARN!)
p
Author's note: PLEASE give me feedback. This is my first bit of fanfic.
p
centerThey're Dead
Luke Skywalker sat on his pillow and scratched at his ear. It was a nice day, not
too hot, and he wished he was playing outside with his best friend, Biggs. It wasn't that
first school was hard, just boring. Although Luke did have trouble concentrating
sometimes. It wasn't his fault. Right now Mrs. Avviril was talking again.
"Luke! Pay attention," she said. Luke tried.
"Now, we were talking about our families. Everybody has a family, whether
they're short, tall, old or young. And we all know that everybody has parents, their mother
and father."
Luke listened intently as she spoke. What was a mother?
"So, class dismissed." Mrs. Avviril said before he had a chance to ask. The other
children got up and Luke followed slowly. Where were his parents? In the stories they
read, children always seemed to have someone they called "Mama" or "Dad". He just had
Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen. Maybe they were his parents, and just didn't want to be
called the same as everybody else. He'd ask Aunt Beru when he got home.
Beru set out a snack on the table and smiled. Luke would be home soon. He'd
only been in first school a week. Outside, a horn honked and she knew it was Luke's
speederpool. A few seconds later, Luke bounded in the door. He didn't come over and
hug her like he usually did. In fact, he was unusually quiet for the rest of his snack. He just
stayed in his room afterwards and pushed his toy speeders around. After a while of this,
she decided to find out what had happened and padded into his room.
"Hey, little bantha, what's up?" she asked softly. He was silent for a few seconds
before he looked up. His blue eyes shone with . . .wisdom you normally didn't see in a five
year old. He looked sweet and innocent, too.
"Aunt Beru? Where are my parents?" he asked. Her jaw dropped. Well, that was
unexpected. What now?
"Uh, well Luke. Your parents are . . .dead. They died a long to time ago." her
mouth twitched as the lie came out.
"Are you my mother then?" he replied. "And Uncle Owen my father?"
"Oh, no, Luke. We-we decided to take care of you. We're your foster parents."
"Oh."
The only thing Luke could really relate to all this was the time he and Uncle Owen
had found a dead bantha near Anchorhead. Luke had walked over to investigate why it
wasn't moving, and Uncle Owem had told him to stay away. Maybe his parents were bad,
so they died and people had to stay away from them. All sorts of thoughts floated around
his little mind. Aunt Beru smiled, stood up, and left him to wonder. He had handled it
better than she thought he would.
Later that evening, Luke went with Uncle Owen to check on some vaporators. The
boy was just watching, learning for when he was old enough. He watched intently as
Uncle Owen worked. Uncle Owen was pretty smart. Maybe he knew more than Aunt
Beru.
"Uncle Owen? Where are my parents?"
Owen froze. No, not now. And anyway, where'd he heard about that. Probably
some damn teacher filling his head with crap.
"They're dead," he answered gruffly. "Died a long time ago. Forget about it."
After his chores were done, dinner eaten, and he was in bed, Luke sat up
wondering. Someday, not now, but in a some years, when he was an adult, he'd figure out
more abou his parents.
and anything to do with that. And I, believe it or not, are making no money off of this
story. (DARN!)
p
Author's note: PLEASE give me feedback. This is my first bit of fanfic.
p
centerThey're Dead
Luke Skywalker sat on his pillow and scratched at his ear. It was a nice day, not
too hot, and he wished he was playing outside with his best friend, Biggs. It wasn't that
first school was hard, just boring. Although Luke did have trouble concentrating
sometimes. It wasn't his fault. Right now Mrs. Avviril was talking again.
"Luke! Pay attention," she said. Luke tried.
"Now, we were talking about our families. Everybody has a family, whether
they're short, tall, old or young. And we all know that everybody has parents, their mother
and father."
Luke listened intently as she spoke. What was a mother?
"So, class dismissed." Mrs. Avviril said before he had a chance to ask. The other
children got up and Luke followed slowly. Where were his parents? In the stories they
read, children always seemed to have someone they called "Mama" or "Dad". He just had
Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen. Maybe they were his parents, and just didn't want to be
called the same as everybody else. He'd ask Aunt Beru when he got home.
Beru set out a snack on the table and smiled. Luke would be home soon. He'd
only been in first school a week. Outside, a horn honked and she knew it was Luke's
speederpool. A few seconds later, Luke bounded in the door. He didn't come over and
hug her like he usually did. In fact, he was unusually quiet for the rest of his snack. He just
stayed in his room afterwards and pushed his toy speeders around. After a while of this,
she decided to find out what had happened and padded into his room.
"Hey, little bantha, what's up?" she asked softly. He was silent for a few seconds
before he looked up. His blue eyes shone with . . .wisdom you normally didn't see in a five
year old. He looked sweet and innocent, too.
"Aunt Beru? Where are my parents?" he asked. Her jaw dropped. Well, that was
unexpected. What now?
"Uh, well Luke. Your parents are . . .dead. They died a long to time ago." her
mouth twitched as the lie came out.
"Are you my mother then?" he replied. "And Uncle Owen my father?"
"Oh, no, Luke. We-we decided to take care of you. We're your foster parents."
"Oh."
The only thing Luke could really relate to all this was the time he and Uncle Owen
had found a dead bantha near Anchorhead. Luke had walked over to investigate why it
wasn't moving, and Uncle Owem had told him to stay away. Maybe his parents were bad,
so they died and people had to stay away from them. All sorts of thoughts floated around
his little mind. Aunt Beru smiled, stood up, and left him to wonder. He had handled it
better than she thought he would.
Later that evening, Luke went with Uncle Owen to check on some vaporators. The
boy was just watching, learning for when he was old enough. He watched intently as
Uncle Owen worked. Uncle Owen was pretty smart. Maybe he knew more than Aunt
Beru.
"Uncle Owen? Where are my parents?"
Owen froze. No, not now. And anyway, where'd he heard about that. Probably
some damn teacher filling his head with crap.
"They're dead," he answered gruffly. "Died a long time ago. Forget about it."
After his chores were done, dinner eaten, and he was in bed, Luke sat up
wondering. Someday, not now, but in a some years, when he was an adult, he'd figure out
more abou his parents.