Disclaimer: It belongs to Lucas. I only own the poor kid.
Warning: Very morbid, very sad.
Dying Thoughts (The thoughts of a Jedi captured by the Emperor.)
I've been kicked and prodded
Force, help me if I haven't died
Whipped and beaten
Day after day
Just because of one thing
I'm a Jedi
I'm not even a full one
Just a Padawan
My Master was murdered
And my friends were cut down
The Council is dead
And there is no one but the Sith around
I'm just a kid, barely a teen
Yet here I am,
Beaten and tortured
Day in and day out
All because
I'm a Jedi
Jedi
I still don't despise it
No matter how hard they try
I can't hate what I am
I rather die then to say
To condemn
Being a Jedi
My time is coming
I feel it
The Force is calling
My body is beyond its limit
They finally did it
They went a little too far
Their little toy is dying
And not a way to save me
They'll throw my body out
Upon that heap with the others
But I won't care
Cause I won't be there
Master, I'm coming
Wait for me
"You disgusting Jedi scum," the guardsman hisses as he spits upon me then shuts the door.
I can hear him lock the door, and I can't help but want to laugh. It seems like a rather tiring action, when the being they are trying to keep in can't even raise its head, let alone walk out.
Oh, it's been a bad day, but every day is a horrid day. Day in, day out, the same. I am taken from my small, dirty, dank, horrid cell, and taken to the Emperor in his torture rooms. I am strapped into my binds, and hang there as they begin. It usually starts with whipping, but Emperor has grown tired of that. No, now we are onto brands. Sith, I can still feel them burning into my skin, sucking at my life force greedily. Whatever is left of it, anyways. I can't understand, why? Why do they do this? Why don't they just kill me? I'm not even a full Jedi, just a Padawan, and a Padawan by about two years at that. Not time enough to learn much. But they slaughtered the younger children, even the babies, why shouldn't they cut down the Padawans as well. Perhaps the Emperor just wishes to see one Jedi weaker then he, maybe he wishes to watch me writher in pain, trying to scream. But I can't. I lost my voice a while ago, with all of my screaming.
Master, why is this happening? Why did you leave me? I know you didn't have a choice. I watched as Vader cut you down. I see it in my nightmares every night, when I can sleep at all. But you said you would always be there. Yet, here I am, alone. Even the Force has abandoned me. Master, help me. If anything, help me to die. Its so cold, dark, [i]empty[/i] here. I know you told me to be brave, but how can one be brave when there is nothing left to be brave for?
I wish I could cry, but all my tears are spent. My eyes are scratchy, and I can't see very well. That is to be expected, as I cried for days after your death, Master, for you, then for me, because of my suffering, then for the rest, for our kind is dying. We lost, Master, because we were blind, by pride, by our own teachings. Two Sith defeated thousands of Jedi, because we were blind.
I have another thought as to why the Emperor wishes me to suffer. It is so that I may bend to his will, so that I may reject the Jedi. But I cannot, I will not. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how alone and empty I feel, I shall not condemn the Jedi. What truly is a Jedi is in my blood. A Jedi is hope, wisdom, honor, light, truth, justice, and life to some extent. I cannot renounce what I am, no sooner then I can cut my own heart out.
But oh have I suffered so, I, a child really, barely into my teens. I shouldn't be made to suffer, just because of what I am. But that only shows how cruel the Emperor is, and that alone makes me want to defy him with what ever is left in me.
He slaughtered all that I knew. I watched as he and his apprentice cut down all, no matter what age, species, or gender. The Temple was bathed in the blood of the Jedi, and then destroyed. I watched it as it fell, and my heart tore within me then. I sensed that your heart did as well, Master, though you said not a word, but only hurried me on. They caught us anyways, and you tried to fight them. But his apprentice had you out matched, and took your head. I tried to fight with what skills you taught me, dear Master, but when those failed, I tried to turn my blade on myself. For Sith have no mercy, as I am now being shown. But he ripped my lightsaber from me, and took me by force. I don't remember anything else until I awoke here, in this dark cell. It seems like such a long time ago, I wonder how long I have been here. Sitting here in the dark, silently crying for all that is lost, as my broken body bleeds a little more.
I try to focus, to look at what they have done. Burns, wounds from knives and other instruments, bleeding. My blood is pooling all around me, soaking into the places where other dried blood from countless days before have soaked in. I'm bleeding a bit too much today. I think they finally done it, and I'm going to die.
I don't want to die at such an age, Master. I wanted to see the galaxy, and die some righteous death, though just a while ago I believed I was immortal. But I am mortal, and even now my life dwindles out of my flesh.
Master, I wish you were here, and yet I don't. I desperately need your comfort now, but you are so far away. But I am coming, I can feel it. The Force is singing, though Force blockers surround the place, I can feel it, hear it, see it. I know they went too far, and they have finally finished it. I'm dying.
I know you said there was no death, but I know better. There is death, and then there is the Force, beautiful, comforting, a last thing to cling to before death.
They'll probably toss my body out upon that pile bodies, and set it on fire. I won't get a decent burial, but it matters not. Let them do what they will with my body, I am going to be free. No more pain, no more sorrow, no more emptiness. I don't know what awaits me within the Force, but I do not fear.
Master, wait for me, I'm coming.
Warning: Very morbid, very sad.
Dying Thoughts (The thoughts of a Jedi captured by the Emperor.)
I've been kicked and prodded
Force, help me if I haven't died
Whipped and beaten
Day after day
Just because of one thing
I'm a Jedi
I'm not even a full one
Just a Padawan
My Master was murdered
And my friends were cut down
The Council is dead
And there is no one but the Sith around
I'm just a kid, barely a teen
Yet here I am,
Beaten and tortured
Day in and day out
All because
I'm a Jedi
Jedi
I still don't despise it
No matter how hard they try
I can't hate what I am
I rather die then to say
To condemn
Being a Jedi
My time is coming
I feel it
The Force is calling
My body is beyond its limit
They finally did it
They went a little too far
Their little toy is dying
And not a way to save me
They'll throw my body out
Upon that heap with the others
But I won't care
Cause I won't be there
Master, I'm coming
Wait for me
"You disgusting Jedi scum," the guardsman hisses as he spits upon me then shuts the door.
I can hear him lock the door, and I can't help but want to laugh. It seems like a rather tiring action, when the being they are trying to keep in can't even raise its head, let alone walk out.
Oh, it's been a bad day, but every day is a horrid day. Day in, day out, the same. I am taken from my small, dirty, dank, horrid cell, and taken to the Emperor in his torture rooms. I am strapped into my binds, and hang there as they begin. It usually starts with whipping, but Emperor has grown tired of that. No, now we are onto brands. Sith, I can still feel them burning into my skin, sucking at my life force greedily. Whatever is left of it, anyways. I can't understand, why? Why do they do this? Why don't they just kill me? I'm not even a full Jedi, just a Padawan, and a Padawan by about two years at that. Not time enough to learn much. But they slaughtered the younger children, even the babies, why shouldn't they cut down the Padawans as well. Perhaps the Emperor just wishes to see one Jedi weaker then he, maybe he wishes to watch me writher in pain, trying to scream. But I can't. I lost my voice a while ago, with all of my screaming.
Master, why is this happening? Why did you leave me? I know you didn't have a choice. I watched as Vader cut you down. I see it in my nightmares every night, when I can sleep at all. But you said you would always be there. Yet, here I am, alone. Even the Force has abandoned me. Master, help me. If anything, help me to die. Its so cold, dark, [i]empty[/i] here. I know you told me to be brave, but how can one be brave when there is nothing left to be brave for?
I wish I could cry, but all my tears are spent. My eyes are scratchy, and I can't see very well. That is to be expected, as I cried for days after your death, Master, for you, then for me, because of my suffering, then for the rest, for our kind is dying. We lost, Master, because we were blind, by pride, by our own teachings. Two Sith defeated thousands of Jedi, because we were blind.
I have another thought as to why the Emperor wishes me to suffer. It is so that I may bend to his will, so that I may reject the Jedi. But I cannot, I will not. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how alone and empty I feel, I shall not condemn the Jedi. What truly is a Jedi is in my blood. A Jedi is hope, wisdom, honor, light, truth, justice, and life to some extent. I cannot renounce what I am, no sooner then I can cut my own heart out.
But oh have I suffered so, I, a child really, barely into my teens. I shouldn't be made to suffer, just because of what I am. But that only shows how cruel the Emperor is, and that alone makes me want to defy him with what ever is left in me.
He slaughtered all that I knew. I watched as he and his apprentice cut down all, no matter what age, species, or gender. The Temple was bathed in the blood of the Jedi, and then destroyed. I watched it as it fell, and my heart tore within me then. I sensed that your heart did as well, Master, though you said not a word, but only hurried me on. They caught us anyways, and you tried to fight them. But his apprentice had you out matched, and took your head. I tried to fight with what skills you taught me, dear Master, but when those failed, I tried to turn my blade on myself. For Sith have no mercy, as I am now being shown. But he ripped my lightsaber from me, and took me by force. I don't remember anything else until I awoke here, in this dark cell. It seems like such a long time ago, I wonder how long I have been here. Sitting here in the dark, silently crying for all that is lost, as my broken body bleeds a little more.
I try to focus, to look at what they have done. Burns, wounds from knives and other instruments, bleeding. My blood is pooling all around me, soaking into the places where other dried blood from countless days before have soaked in. I'm bleeding a bit too much today. I think they finally done it, and I'm going to die.
I don't want to die at such an age, Master. I wanted to see the galaxy, and die some righteous death, though just a while ago I believed I was immortal. But I am mortal, and even now my life dwindles out of my flesh.
Master, I wish you were here, and yet I don't. I desperately need your comfort now, but you are so far away. But I am coming, I can feel it. The Force is singing, though Force blockers surround the place, I can feel it, hear it, see it. I know they went too far, and they have finally finished it. I'm dying.
I know you said there was no death, but I know better. There is death, and then there is the Force, beautiful, comforting, a last thing to cling to before death.
They'll probably toss my body out upon that pile bodies, and set it on fire. I won't get a decent burial, but it matters not. Let them do what they will with my body, I am going to be free. No more pain, no more sorrow, no more emptiness. I don't know what awaits me within the Force, but I do not fear.
Master, wait for me, I'm coming.