A/n: K, I know I said nothing new until my big five were done, but I couldn't resist. It's been a long time since I wrote something new, so, although this is awfully short, and random (I was tryign out this technique called "Free Fall" that we learned about in creative writing class and that's what started this), I thought I might as well post it and see what people think. And for anyone who can't figure out who's who, shame on you. Lol, no j/k. I'll tell you at the bottom if you're really desperate. Anyways, read this and tell me what you thought. It's not one of my best, and it's kind of weird (b/c of the whole Free Fall thing) but ya. Tell me what your thoughts are as they will be HUGELY appreciated, lol.
Disclaimer: Haven't done one of these in a while. You know the drill, though. I don't own it, I have no $$, so don't sue me. I'm sure you could come with a much better use of your time.
Screaming.
Terrified, agonizing screaming.
Over and over again. Without end, without mercy.
Her face was stained with rivers of tears and she couldn't stop screaming.
He reached out for, fear of losing her, fear of death, fear of not being able to help her, pulsing and consuming him. His hand stretched out and she called for him like he wasn't there and she was going to die. Die without saying goodbye. Die knowing he couldn't save her after all.
She was so close he could lean forward and have his lips touch her cheek. Her cries were searing his heart to pieces. Yet his hand could not touch her because he was too far away. He reached and called her name and he could not reach far enough to touch her. Somehow, it looked physically possible for him to touch her, she did not move save for the flailing in pain, and somehow his hand could not stretch far enough to caress her skin and offer her comfort.
He tried to tell her he was here, he was right here, and it would all be alright. He tried to reassure her, comfort her, calm her. But his voice was quiet no matter how hard he yelled and she continued to scream for him.
Piercing, scarring, heart-shattering screaming.
She wanted to know why he was not there to save her. Why, because he had promised. Promised, and he was not there. She said between cries that she still loved him, she would love him forever.
His own tears spilled like waterfalls down his face because he was there. And she could not see him or hear him and he could not touch her and talk to her. More fear twisted like a wrench on his soul.
Her screams impossibly escalated and he joined in. Hers were of a mixture of the physical pain of childbirth and the emotional of him not being there when she need him most, while his were all anger that he could not be seen or heard, sadness that this was happening, helplessness that he could not save her and grief that he was losing her.
She gave her last breath and his screams resonated like a massive gong, shattering windows and making the ground shake.
She was dead and still he could not touch her.
Finally, his eyes opened. He was sitting up, his chest heaving, faster than he blinked. He was startled to see everything around him dark, after the brilliant white glare of wherever he had been just now.
She's gone. He thought, images swirling and exploding in his mind and before his eyes. His ragged gasps continued until he saw her there, sleeping peacefully. He cautiously reached out to touch her, his breath momentarily frozen. She was warm and eternally comforting as her chest lifted and fell with each steady rhythmic breath.
Relief like no other washed over him like a huge tidal wave as his breathing returned to its irregularity after the nightmare. He covered his face with his hands and tried to block out the images of his dream.
That's all it was.
A dream.
A dream. He thought again, trying to further calm himself down, to slow down his racing pulse, to remind him she was alive and well on the bed beside him. A dream.
His eyes burned with tears. Why did he have to see that? Why did it have to happen? Why did his dreams have to come true? Why did she have to die? Why?
Before he could fully recall them, he suppressed the dreams and images of his mother before she died and forced them to the very back of his mind. He never wanted to remember that.
He got out of bed and went to the veranda, and overlooked the glowing city, the nightlife well awake. He stared at nothing in particular, still trying to stop his hands from shaking.
It won't happen. He thought. It won't ever happen. I won't let it. I won't ever let this one come true. I will do anything it takes. Anything to stop this from happening. Anything. I won't let this come true. I won't. I won't…
A/n: Well? I know its not one of my best and its rather odd, but... ah, whatever. Let me know what you thought! Read it? Review! And for anyone who didn't figure it out, it was Anakin (the "he") and Padme (the "she"). And before anyone asks, no, this will not be more than a one-shot, lol. I am planning on doing some more Revenge of the Sith one-shots, but none specifically as a sequel or chapter two for this one. Anyways, talk to y'all later. :D