Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

Just Six

It had been two days since I had begged for Kylo Ren not to slice my neck open with his lightsaber, but I can almost still feel the heat of his weapon beneath my chin and it serves as a constant reminder of the fear I had of dying.

I know death is always a possibility, always threatening–but it had never touched me quite so close until that very moment. I had promised him that I would forget my past and fulfil my destiny if he were to not kill me that day, and just give me time–then I would be willing... but I wasn't so sure of my own faith.

Kylo Ren hadn't returned since he had retracted his blazing, threatening lightsaber, and he hadn't yet confirmed my deal–but considering the fact that I am still alive, I think he accepted it; and for that, I suppose I should be grateful, but a tang of bitter hatred still lingers.

Hope beads through my skin like dew on forest grounds. I feel it radiating, trying to soothe my blood. There was something in Kylo Ren that was still good–I could sense it last, and it glimmered in the way he showed me mercy, and it bleed through in the way his eyes had turned frightened.

Perhaps, he wasn't just a monster–but a man whom wore the mask of one.

I don't know for sure that the next time I see the apprentice will be better than before, or if that spark of good within is being ground and shrivelled up by the bad within him, right at this very moment; but I have to hold onto optimism with an open heart, for all that will be replaced is that same, bitter hatred.

I had picked myself up shortly after he left, my body a heavy mess of bruises and scrapes. With each step the pain amplified and my spine had felt like it stabbed the muscle from the inside. As the days passed, so did the pain–but the marks he had caused were a painful reminder.

Now, only hunger replaced my pain, but it was the most terrible pain: constant, grinding. I had looked for food in his quarters yesterday, but the kitchen was empty. The hunger was ever-present;  it gnawed at my insides and all I could do was chug water from the tap, hoping it would trick my stomach into subdue.

But it never worked, so then I resorted to sleeping it away... but now even that couldn't take away the pain. A few hours ago my stomach growled, waking me up from my slumber–now silent, I'm past the growling point, and from there, I only feel a sinking emptiness.

My stomach had stopped lurching but I still feel bruised inside. Waves of heat coursed through my blood, a cold sweat glistening in my gaunt features. My eyes almost feel sunken and my skin shallow. Everything ached, everything sagged. The glass of water stared at me from the bedside table, so I took a sip and plopped back onto the pillow, but it almost lurched in my throat.

Curling into myself, I wonder if this was what Kylo Ren had done on purpose–maybe, he did want to kill me, but he decided it was easier to just leave and hope I starve to death in the meantime.

I watch the numbers on the clock continuously change, and each number seemed to sneer at me in taunt. Lonely was once an abstract idea. I always had Three with me–though not by blood, she was still my sister.

I always had Five, and he had me.

At first there was the shock, denial, anger, the despair... it takes so long to arrive at acceptance with the knowing that Five would be preparing himself for a life of war. I wondered if he was doing what I am now–staring at the stars, unable to sleep whilst his mind is a swirling mass of thoughts and fears. I wondered if he grew worried about me too.

I once hated the idea that we were supposed to die together with silver hair and wrinkles–but now destiny, or I wonder... the First Order, saw fit to take him for a reason that didn't quite resemble my own, but something much more physical. I can feel the distance between he and I, growing every minute that passes–the travel longer and the stars between us rapidly shrinking; but at the same time, I can still feel love from a universe away, enough to tingle fingertips and blind my mind from the hunger.