Haunting Feelings

These are not my characters. They're all George Lucas's.

A/N: I had the idea for this story a few nights ago so I decided to make this my first short story. Hope you enjoy!

A figure sat huddled on the bed in a dark, cold room. He was in agony. Not physical, but emotional. The figure sat there, his face in his hand, shaky uncontrollably. How? How had this happened? What had he done? A cry escaped his lips as he caressed a silky material in his hand. It was her dress.

It never had to be this way. If only he had known. Anakin could not stand it. His emotions suddenly switched gears. He stood up, ashamed of his outburst of emotion, tossing the material against the wall. This was his destiny? This agony of death, hurt, and emotional pain? He was the chosen one! He was not supposed to endure this. Or was he?

He began to walk to the door, but he faltered. The tears would not stop. I have to control myself. Anger. Hate. Love. Love? That was when he realized. He had never stopped loving her.

Anakin fell to the floor. She was gone. It was his fault. His fingers clung to his hair, in a desperate attempt to feel, to hold anything. His head fell to the floor, clanging on the hard, unfeeling stone. It hurt, but it caused him to stop thinking about her even if it was just for a moment.

A rap on the door brought him slowly to his senses. He did not move. Leave me alone. A short pause prevailed. A harder, more menacing knock. A pause. A loud, clanging boom. Anakin could not handle it anymore.

"WHAT!" No-one answered. He slowly got up from the floor, confused, bewildered. "Who's there?"

Again, no answer. He attempted to rise and felt his legs give way beneath him. Get up you fool. He jumped up, giving his body no chance to bring him back down. His mechanical hand hit the wall, keeping him on his feet.

Right. Left. Right. His mind tried to focus on other things. He staggered to the door, then paused. No-one can see me this way. He re-analyzed what he should do and backed away from the door.

He stumbled back to his bed, forgetting to look away from the back wall where he had thrown his last memory of her. Of his Padmè.

His eyes quickly glanced back at the floor and he collapsed on the bed. Sleep. That's what I need. His mind wandered as he slowly began to drift into slumber.

He was in a dank, dusty room, but that was not his focus. He was distracted by his shivering body. It was very cold. He looked out the window. It was dark, but there was no land in sight, just a vast array of stars. I must be on a ship. Anakin walked around the room, glancing at objects that were in his path. Nothing stood out. Where am I? He rummaged through drawers, finding only dresses that were not familiar. His hand touched something in a pocket. He pulled it out and gasped. It was a locket. He had seen this before. He slowly opened it, bracing himself for what he was about to see. Could it be? The locket fell to the floor as Anakin saw his own smiling face, captured in time forever.

A noise startled him. An overwhelming emotion filled the room. It was a mixture of many things. Fear. Pain. Hate. Confusion. Someone just entered the room. He quickly slammed his body against a wall and waited for the person to leave. They didn't.

The next event that occurred happened all too quickly. A piercing scream filled the room as the door flew open and Anakin caught a glimpse of his Master staring menacingly down at the crying heap on the floor.

All Anakin needed to hear was a quiet whimper when he suddenly realized that the person on the floor was Padmè. The room suddenly erupted in a loud, piercing cry, but it didn't come from Padmè. It was Anakin.

Anakin Skywalker ran in front of his Master and yelled with all his energy and might. "DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" and then he realized what he had done and fell to the floor at the Emperor's feet.

His Master didn't hear. At first Anakin was relieved, but then he realized there was something wrong. What's going on? The Emperor didn't even look at him, and neither did Padmè.

Tension filled the air as suddenly a shockwave of energy flew out of the Emperor's sickly, strange hands and Anakin watched in utter terror as it hit Padmè. Anakin couldn't watch. He could smell the burning of flesh; hear the intermittent cries for help, and then silence. Anakin could never in twenty-five years have ever felt lonelier. She was dead.

The Emperor left the room, but not before taking her body with him. As he marched triumphantly out the door, he let out a sinister laugh that echoed through the hallway beyond.

Anakin was very alone. It hurt to cry. It hurt to think about her. It hurt to know that he couldn't save her. It hurt to know she was gone forever. He just wanted to stay in this room forever and never get up. He would die in this room, just so he could see his Padmè again.

He felt something beside him. The room suddenly became warmer. At least he thought he was alone. This presence surprised him. It calmed him. He regained the strength to get up again, only to fall back to the floor in shock of the sight he saw.

There before him was his angel, Padmè. Her eyes sparkled as she locked eyes with Anakin, and she reached down with her soft fingers and gently lifted him back up to his feet.

Anakin wanted to kiss her, to hold her, but something was holding him back. He whispered her name over and over again, watching as her hair moved in a nonexistent breeze.

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently on the cheek, just like she always used to do. Anakin leaned in to kiss her back on the lips, but she backed away playfully and shook her head, no.

Anakin was taken aback. "Why, Padmè? Please speak to me," he whispered desperately. Her playful laugh echoed through the room like a chorus of church bells. Padmè glided over to him and whispered gently in his ear, "Let's save that kiss for the next time I see you."

Anakin began to protest, but she placed her fingers on his lips.

"Anakin, it may be sooner than you think. Just know that I love you and I always will, no matter what happens. There will be difficult times, but you will make it through in the end. Please, please remember that I am always with you."

She placed the same locket he had found in her cabinet earlier around his neck, opening it to reveal her smiling face, not Anakin's.

Anakin smiled as she began to run her fingers through his hair, the first smile he had experienced since he had seen her alive.

He woke up, cold sweat running down his face. Anakin's body was soaked and he reached up to his cheek to find wet tears, which he quickly wiped off with his fingers.

It was all a dream. Nothing had changed. Padmè was still dead and the Emperor, her murderer, was still his master. Most importantly, Anakin still loved her.

He could only feel that sleep had made it worse. If only, if only…Anakin reached up to his chest, touching something cold, metallic.

It was her locket.

The End