The Color of the Force
The only things related to these stories that I own are the books and Ken's soul. . He sold it to me for Luke, because I am the devil! Mwahahahahaha!
The reason I call the boy that I once was dead is because, quite literally, he had nothing to live for. I guess it starts with family. In my case, I didn't have any. Anyone who could be family for me was missing. Obviously, the Emperor- no, I don't even care he was my biological father, I REFUSE to acknowledge him that way- banished me once I was born. I only knew that because the overseers were spiteful and thought it would be fun to jerk me around with that. Think of it as though he'd just left me on the doorstep of a church, like in all those gruesome children's stories, except it was a prison, not a church.
My mother... I remember her in some of the dreams I have... Don't look at me like that, of course I remember my dreams. I'll get to that later, but, anyhow, even in those dreams, I can't ever see her face. She's always crying. That much I can see. And I hear her laughing, too. As though, she was determined to be happy, even though she was about to die. I knew she was dead. I'd felt it. I'd seen it. In those dreams, the last thing I see is my mother's faceless head, before there is blood everywhere...
But that's probably more than you need to know. I don't want you to have nightmares anymore than you're already going to have. Gods know I'M going to have some of my worst dreams tonight.
Your mother once sang me a song to help me sleep without any nightmares. It was sad, very very sad, but it was beautiful, all the same. It was about a person who had lost someone they loved very very much, but they continued to mourn. Eventually, the song reached a point where the singer speaks of being alone, all along. That's why it struck such sadness in me: because it reminded me of myself at that point. I've always been alone.
Sometimes, when I was young, when I was naïve, I sometimes wondered if there was someone who missed me- someone who wished I was back home- someone who cared enough they'd want to see me again.
Of course not. Nobody ever cared. There was no such thing as love. It was just something people made up and used as an excuse to hurt others... It used to make me cry to think that all anyone ever cared about was themselves...
But then... I stopped caring about even me. If I didn't care, then it didn't hurt, and no hurt was good. So, now do you see why I say I killed my heart? Because it was the only way I could think of that helped me stay alive. I know now that I could have just ignored my emotions or closed myself off... but I didn't know that then.
But... that was life. My family was missing, affection was missing, positive emotions in general were missing... My life was a blank spot: Everything that was supposed to be there was missing... Ken, why are you crying?
I'd ask people to guess the song... but nobody's reviewing... so I'm not even going to try. But... here it is...