Lightsaber // chanbaek

。5

'そんなに多くの謎、そのような小さな時間'

'So many mysteries, such little time.'

。Monachopsis。

An hour or more had passed and I'm still sitting here. I'm not sure why a bloodthirsty villain would want an insecure teenager planning to attack him to sit on his lap and carry on chatting about some kind of plan.

All I was able to process from my foggy mind were a few sentences. Most of the time I was just focused on Lay and Suho, who'd ripped half of his shirt to tie around Lay's continuously bleeding arm. No one had taken any notice of them, but they hadn't moved, even after I silently mouthed for them to run and find a hospital.
The rest of my attention was on B1-76 who now had multiple dents and discolouration to his once pristine, shiny self. In other words everything had crumbled.

My mind was attacking itself with excuses and explanations for why this was happening. Kyungsoo's looking most uncomfortable, curled up on the mysterious boy's thigh, shivering at every small touch the man tried. I'm still trying trying to get my head around the fact that instead of killing us, they asked us to sit on their laps. It was most unexpected.

"Can we leave now boss, I'm getting sick of this place." The drunk looking one asks. His loopy self standing up, checking his pockets as if he's misplaced something.

"Shit. My lightsaber. Anyone seen it?" He says in a gratingly gravelly voice, huffing and sighing every two seconds. In all honesty, he doesn't look like someone belonging to the empire. He looks more like a stray drunken man who just so happened to stumble across these people. Although I shouldn't say that, he's probably crazy good with a lightsaber or something else unrealistic.

"Sure, let's head back to the ship before the aircraft ban begins." The man I eyed briefly says, a disturbing twitch in his eye as he fiddles with the painful looking piercing at the very edge of his lip. His ashy blonde dyed hair is spiky and messy as he runs a callused, beaten hand through it, spreading blood over a few strands.

"Up."

I almost jump as I hear his voice, the one that's tearing me apart with fear, rage and some form of strange attraction. It's probably just the setting and the situation, but I'm feeling oddly obliged to do as this man says, although I'm slow and I don't respond to his command, getting the message after a few seconds.

With shaking legs, I stand, freely walking over to Suho and Lay. As I'm doing so, a hand grips my arm, a much larger, harder hand.

"Did I say you could move,"

He takes an intimidating step closer, and my eyes never leave his as he takes a breath, leaning dangerously close to my ear.

"You're mine now. You're not free anymore, baby boy. Do you understand me?"

His voice alone could make my heart stops. It's one of those things that makes you want to run away, but instantly stay and never leave. This situation could not be worse. He's taken my freedom. I don't understand the importance of what's happening. None of my friends are ever going to see their families again. I'm never going to fulfil my father's dream and get a job. I'm being captured. I want to thrash about, scream, run, cry for help, and yet for some insanely stupid reason, all of us have decided to keep quiet. Why is that?

"Are you going to answer me, baby boy?"

I gulp back every thing I want to say, every single word gets sucked into a black void in the abyss of my insane mind, locked away in a rusting cage, beaten to silence by the obedience drilled into me. He's getting what he wants, and it's sickening. He's getting pleasure from seeing me struggle and all of a sudden my barriers are down and I feel threatened, knowing he taking away the normality of teen hood. He's taking my life away. And I'm obeying. Why am I obeying! Why am I listening! Is it because I'm afraid of death? I'd rather that anyway. What will I ever accomplish? I'm cowardly. I have so many dreams and yet I'm such a wuss I can't even own up to my own father about my own choices. I don't have a voice anymore. I'll never be like those heroes I read in the books. Is Luke sky walker even real? Or is he just a myth to create the perfect expectation of a Jedi.

My conclusion, no. I am not your baby boy. And I'm not going to answer. And if he's a mind reader, I hope he's hearing every single one of my thoughts, I hope he takes my life right here, right now. I know it's selfish, especially seeing the expression on Kyungsoo's face, Lay's condition, but this is completely wrong. This little escapade to the bar was a bad idea.

"Interesting. I guess as punishment, I'll just have to keep you alive. How does that sound? Hmm, what happens if I make you watch that boy over there die? Would that make you answer? 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, . . . ."

"Y-yes. I understand." I mutter rough gritted teeth, although my anger is short-lived when I see B1-76 being thrown to the ground by the supposed Sehun. Does he find pleasure in this? Is this what makes him sleep at night?

"Good, baby boy. Now come."

He's treating me like a dog. Like a pet. Is this my life now? Is this what I get? For being a poor representation of a good Jedi. Without my lightsaber, I'm nothing. Just a clumsy eighteen year old with parents who expect too much of him. I'm not some spectacular heartthrob, I'm a teenager with ambitions he will never achieve. And this, I succumb to the invisible leash, following him to wherever he's going.

As I look around, I notice Lay being lifted by a sweating Suho, wrecked and abused. The ashy blonde man and the mad drunk as I've now labelled them follow behind, making sure they don't try anything. Sehun, or whatever his name is, carries B1-76 in his arms, giving him light flicks every so often. Kyungsoo is trailing behind the white haired freak, the size difference, if in another situation, comical. And here I am, following someone who, in the last five minutes, has wrecked my whole future. My entire life. Everything.

It's. All. Gone.

'時には絶望に屈することが最高の自由をもたらします。'

'Sometimes choosing despair brings maximum freedom.'