That won't happen to you

Chapter 79

Anakin was sitting at a table. Well sitting was the wrong term. He half way laid on it, not having the motivation to keep his head up.

He could not go on.

He just couldn't anymore.

For a year now, his little Snips had been gone.

A whole year that he didn't know how she was, or if she was even still alive.

This not knowing was driving him crazy.

It was getting to him.

And he was beginning to lose hope that he would ever find her again.

He Anakin Skywalker was losing hope.

The great hero without fear was frightened.

He raised his head and looked to the man behind the counter.

"Another shot, please," he muttered.

The bartender placed another shot in front of him.

Anakin took it and downed it in one gulp.

He didn't remember how many it have been.

Why count them anyway.

He put the last one away, and let his head fall back on the table.

Tears ran from his eyes, and down his cheeks.

His snips. His little Padawan. He hadn't been able to save her.

He was to blame for everything that had happened to her, and everything that was still happening to her, now that he wasn't there. That he wasn't there for her.

He sobbed.

He was crying.

Yes, Anakin Skywalker wept bitterly.

Never in his life had he been so down.

He cried on and on.

The bartender peered over at him.

He had been seeing the man here on and off for a few days, and he wondered.

Anakin did not look like a man of the lower levels.

And even though his sunken cheeks, vacant stare, and greasy hair made him look far from recognisable as the great General of the Republic, the bartender did recognise this man needed help.

He tapped him on the shoulder.

Anakin raised his head, looking at him out of red eyes.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked Anakin.

The latter sighed. He didn't want to talk about it. But it was pressing against him from the inside, and he had to get rid of it.

He couldn't carry it around with him anymore.

"I lost someone," he croaked. "Someone important."

The bartender bit his lip.

"Death?" he asked.

"No. Kidnapped. A year ago." whispered Anakin, lowering his head.

"I've tried everything. I tried everything to find her. But nothing. I'll probably never see her again. She could be dead by now, and I wouldn't know it."

He continued to sob.

"Your wife?" the bartender wanted to know.

"Daughter. Little sister. Something in between. She's been with me for a year. I... I was supposed to watch her. I tried to take care of her. But I failed. And now she's in danger."

He tried to drink an empty shot, which logically didn't work.

The bartender bit his lip.

"Hey, you'll find her again. You just can't give up. And everything will be all right" he said to him.