Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

The General

The misery of distance haunts me. What was once so tangible, had only turned into a desolate figure in my memory as the stars beyond glimmered with sneer at my anguish – Any of them could be Kylo, beaming his light astray to lead me home, but from so far away his beacon only sunk in with the other trails of light in the black canvas.

Those golden eyes are a ghostly exuberance of warmth that barely ignites my soul without them peering above me. Kylo's love was no more than a chill in the air or a shimmer of mist.

I laid on the hospital bed with the side of my palm shoved between my teeth as the other rigidly clutched the white sheets, ignoring the way the broken bone beneath the cast, throbbed as I did so.

I stare out the wide window as another doctor stitches my broken wound up, Arion watching patiently as she sat on a stool at the end of the bed, occasionally rubbing the flesh of her neck to try and find invisible bruises that resembled fingers.

When the doctor pierces the last stitch into my abdomen, I clench my eyelids shut so tightly that they began to create hues beneath the lids and shudder from the force as if my tired, swollen eyes were being pricked with a needle. Leaving me crying silent tears that ran past my plump, red cheeks and over the knuckles of my hand, until finally dripping onto the bedsheet with as much of a sound as the thread being pulled through my sliced muscle.

I refused to take any morphine for the pain, for if I did so, the ache in my heart would threaten to consume my will to live entirely without the mask of physical pain in front of it.

I had lost him and I had lost the child. Nothing could take away that pain.

I wish the doctor could patch up my aching soul that is bleeding till it becomes dry with a crimson curse that needs Kylo's spirit by my own. This wound is deeper than anything I have ever felt before and it aches like it will never heal because I fret that I will never see him again.

I have no slight inkling as to why Four and I had been taken by The Resistance... We were their enemy, they were ours. There was no white flagged grounds in the middle between them, there was no good side nor bad. Both The First Order and The Resistance are as destructive as each other – The First Order had torn me from my childhood, threatened and deceived me. And The Resistance had torn me from the only thing I have ever found hope in, Kylo.

I truely believe, that I am the only person in this galaxy who is always riding in a getaway car that has broken down and will never move. There is no escape from either side for me. All that I can do is watch from the dark, waiting and praying for my straining life to lay at ease in all this chaos.

But even in this void, he keeps glowing like a phantom in the night – Forcing me to never attempt to get the car going, for I don't want to escape to anywhere that he isn't.

But somehow, The Resistance had shoved themselves into the drivers seat and got the rusty gears going.

Now that Kylo's gone: All I want to do is go back to him, and I know if I even begged The General of The Resistance to return back to his enemy, he would most definitely shut me down, for he will never understand the way my soul has grown hands and reaches out to Kylo between the lightyears of distance between us.

I know what surrounds Kylo will always be that same destruction and fiery depths that The First Order cause, but if I get burnt from his flame, at least I would feel electrified by his simple touch to my wintry soul once more.

I can hear the whispers of The Resistance members as I am wheeled by Arion through the endless hallways. The Resistance's Base was already incredibly smaller than Finalizer, and everything within it was a stark difference and reminder that I was no longer upon that side; Even the people's faces were much softer and more exuberant in happiness – That was until their eyes laid upon me.