Who Are You?

Another Time

He couldn't identify the feeling plaguing his mind as his footsteps echoed down the corridor.  The emotion had been relentless in its assault on his entire being, leaving him battling to even focus on the scene around him.  Ever since word came of a delivery of prisoners from the surface, a growing commotion had raged on in the back of his thoughts.

It isn't anger, nor rage...

With each step he eliminated another possibility, leaving him more and more frustrated as his list grew shorter.  He knew Sith practices dictated using emotions, so he ASSUMED that he could identify any stray feeling crossing his mind. Unfortunately, it seemed his master had neglected that portion of his training. It was almost infuriating as he felt tempted to snap the closest person's neck just relieve some of this...uneasiness?

No, it's more than that! He suddenly snapped at himself, unwilling to downplay such a significant nuisance as this.

The corridor seemed to stretch on longer than he last recalled, leaving him yet more time to be left with his ever intensifying thoughts.  He hadn't truly believed his master's prediction, though that was hardly a surprise.  The emperor's interest in his son succeeding himself as the perfect dark side apprentice had only further fueled the growing distrust between the two.  He had constantly blocked out any notions of regret, never letting idea enter his mind, he had made his bed long ago and he definitely wasn't going to get up.  However, he was constantly bombarded with questions of doubt. 

Why aren't you a master?  Did they all deserve to die?  Did your 'master' ever care about you?  Why is he so eager to replace you?  Were you ever good enough?  Do you think she'd approve-

A sharp pain shot through his right arm, bringing him back to reality.  His fist was clenched so tightly he was almost certain that the cybernetics would crack under the strain, which seemed to be the case as he struggled to open his hand. 

Cheap garbage, he recalled bitterly, though he quickly reined in his train of thought for the time being.  Unfortunately, an all too familiar feeling began to pipe up once more as he continued down the hallway.  Rage suddenly started to battle for space, consuming his better judgment like always.  Why should he even feel anything other than anger anyway?  Who else has brought so many to their knees begging for mercy, only to be struck down like the weaklings they are?  What other being could terrify the galaxy with a mere mention of his name, petty feelings are beneath one of his power.  As he neared the end of the corridor, he knew he was ready to present his son before the emperor, to have Luke join him one way or another...to join the dark side and put an end to the influence of the light on both their lives.  Two troopers stood guard, his son was remaining eerily calm, standing almost protectively over...he finally knew the name of the feeling when his scorched eyes fell upon her unforgettable beauty. 

Time seemed to pause, as he stopped in front of her.  No longer was he trapped inside the walking prison that had dictated his life for the past twenty four years.  He could feel the softness of the grass between his toes as he took a tentative step, he could bask in the warmth of the sunlight, he could take a deep breath on his own accord and revel in the fresh scents.  Slowly, the memory of colors other than that horrendous red returned.  He was amidst a sea of green, the sky was an amazing shade of blue, with white clouds lazily floating by.  He knew this place, though for some reason, he couldn't place the name.  It was a long time ago, from a point in his life he'd all but forgotten had ever happened.  A time he tried desperately to destroy, something he didn't ever want to think of again.  What could possibly conjure up such terrible desires, to wish to be free of a burden so greatly that he'd want to banish such wonderful memories to the deepest pits of his mind so that they may never return to haunt him?

Her smile.  However unfortunate it was that he had actually forgotten the conversation, her smile still remained.  Her brown eyes glittered, and her dark locks bounced as she laughed at some missing joke.  He felt himself smirk back, an action he hasn't done in years.  She ran a hand through his short, sandy hair, it had lightened a bit after spending so much time underneath the sun.  Grabbing her hand with his own, he realized just how soft her skin was.  His hand was riddled with callouses, and a perpetual layer of sand he could just never seem to shed.  Such a gritty, battered excuse for a hand should have never gone near one so delicate and perfectly cared for, it was surely a crime!  Yet, she held on tightly, lying against his shoulder as they both leaned back and watched the sun slowly begin to set. 

He was almost lost to the moment, trapped in what could only be described as a dream at this point.  However, if one could live in the past, he would have never aspired once to look forward.  All at once, his world fell back into the recesses of his selective memory, exposing him back to the never ending pain that's his life.  She looked upon him still, though it was no longer with a smile.  Why should she anyway?  After all, the sandy haired boy on some nameless planet had died long ago, leaving only darkness to rise and claim his weak heart.  But, he couldn't help but wonder,

Why does she continue to stare?