II• how far i'll go

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A figure sat curled up in the corner of a metallic silver cell

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A figure sat curled up in the corner of a metallic silver cell. The icy nip of the small rectangle room stabbed into the uncovered pale skin of the blonde woman causing her to tremble, her once rose lips turning blue.

She refuses to cry, no matter how many crystal tears gather in her eyes, nor will she give up the location of the rebel base, her blood creating small crimson lakes on the tile. Was the war even over yet?

The woman had lost track of time down in her dim cell.

It was the sound of boots that caused her head to shoot up painfully, hope bubbling in her soul for the first time in days? Months?

With caution for her injuries, and with cramped limbs she stood to her feet. The foot falls stopping right in front of her cell. Was someone here to take her? Or save her?

How much would it hurt for it to be a hallucination?

"Hey!" Her voice raspy and dry, not being used in who knows how long.
No response.

"HEY!" The blonde started pounding on the door. "HEY! LET ME OUT!" Her dry throat burning violently as she screamed in desperation. Her fist pounding relentlessly, ignoring the pain sprouting from her palm, traces of red being left behind after each hit. Each becoming a shade darker.

The foot falls disappeared.

The woman sank to the floor once again, cradling her bleeding hand.

She felt helpless and stupid. Why couldn't she escape? She was a rebel general for stars sake. But why did she feel forgotten? Like a once treasured relic, now thrown away.

The thought dawned on her. They were so close to winning this damn war, they could take casualties. And they could leave generals to die.

They left her to die.

The very thought caused that crystalline tear to fall from her ocean eyes. The helpless feeling was replaced with anger.

After it all? Would they really just throw her to the wolves?  She clenched her fists, causing the shallow gash on her right hand to become deeper.

The general brought her hand in front of her face, watching as the blood ran down her arm and collected on her tattered pants. The gears in her head turning.

Why would they not leave her as a prisoner of war? If anything she was the least valuable to the rebellion-- she may have been a kickass general, but they can always promote more. Like Solo or Skywalker.

Skywalker. What a whiny bitch.

Although she wouldn't mind if Leia was promoted. She would be an amazing general.

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