Cruel Destiny | Kylo Ren

Burning Hatred

The stars taunt me and the glass body of despair in which I am trapped within.

This view from Kylo Ren's quarters once brought me hope, whispering faintly that even in the dark, there is the light of the stars. Perhaps, it was a promise that even in the midst of this pain from being hidden from the light of the sun, there will always be these stars to bring hope of dawn.

With their lighter patches, clusters of faint but bold light and hues that would even make a rainbow jealous, the constellations altered with no sway of destiny but rather their own design.

But now, I can see it clearly. For even those stars one day will dwindle out and die, like all things do. But even these constellations don't die by another's hand, they burn out when it's time and when they are ready–for that is the fairness this universe gives to them.

This universe is a wonderful place, it brings life and power in a healthy balance between the light and dark. But the galaxy doesn't have a common enemy, so why does it's own creations cause chaos within its home?

I know this chaos very well, for I see this chaos every-time I close my eyes.

I see it in the small cottage. The snow falling down upon me. General Hux's blaster. The crimson which bleeds into the snow—my parents.

They were dead. General Hux—the First Order—had killed them. They killed my parents to get me into their greasy hands and when they took me, the First Order had stole my destiny. And they stole my only chance to feel loved–an undeniable love that only a parent's heart could provide, so now I am merely left an empty shell of pain and hatred for what I now know, they had done.

The pain and grief grazes all over me like a heavy bleed, deep and burning all at the same time, whilst the hatred masquerades as an ointment–when truely I know it's purpose is no more than gasoline for the flames.

I know the hatred only guarantees more enmity, more pain... but the hatred is all I can hold onto like a dark flame, burning cold in my chest as I will never be able to do anything about it. If I tried to hold the First Order accountable, I would most likely be killed on the spot. If I were to run away... well, where would I even go?

The First Order is the unseen, unheard, silent killer for the good... or for the bad? I will never know. All I do know, is they caused the pain that's too much to cope with, too hard to deal with, and misunderstood.

But, I guess in the end, burning hatred or not, they win. For I am in the palm of their hands with no chance of survival beyond the First Order's suffocating grip.

I suppose, I should hate Kylo Ren too, for he is the reason I suddenly feel this way... but I didn't. If it weren't for him, I would have never seen the truth. I would have been the accessory they moulded me to be–naive and gullible.

I can't escape this conflict within, no matter how hard I try. It follows me around like a black shadow that's on the inside, smothering me with it's dangerous intentions. I know that I should be backing out of this gloom, but there is a glimmer within that darkness that keeps me drowning beneath it for some unexplainable reason.

Kylo Ren was that glimmer that keeps pulling me into his tide no matter how hard I try to island myself away from him. It had been a week since Kylo had brought back that memory and we hadn't spoken about it since our hearts bled into one for that moment.

He held me that day with a cold caress that warned me I shouldn't be that close to his hidden flame—and I know he will never understand as to why I wish to endure these cold burns he causes than to ever experience them from another.

My brain curses for me to despise the hate he carries and fear the comfort he brought, but I didn't fear nor despise him. I only feared not knowing what he might do and where he might take me.