Standstill

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I couldn't believe this...

Kylo Ren and Five were going to be gone.
Kylo was going to be away from me for months.

I was supposably pregnant with Kylo's child—and he was going to be gone... for five months.

I sat before the wide window, like I had many days before, but now I was dominated by a profound sadness; sorrow engraved on my worn face.

I thought my life was finally carrying on a steady pace—the violence broken—but after today's events with the Supreme Leader, I knew my life would never be the steady boat above still water, but rather the anchor that is pulled down into the darkness every single time.

I suppressed my trembling hands by rubbing them together but it never fully calmed my anxiety. The sorrow grew more profound with every second that passed in this quiet, lonely place, the solemn walls reviving what little memories Kylo Ren and I shared.

Supreme Leader Snoke was calculative, manipulative and utterly cruel. He always spoke without any hesitations as if he already knew what I was thinking before he ever read my mind—and even when he finally did, he toyed with that information like it was a ticking time bomb: though, he was never nervous of its eventual detonation, rather he excited to see the destruction he could cause with it.

And this is what he did with my explosives... he took my two most fragile weaknesses, and locked them away as if it was a cookie jar that belonged on the top of a shelf—so high and far way from my reach.

The urge to cry comes and goes, chaotic, powerful, whilst spilling hot tears. In-between the floods it sits heavy on my heart, never leaving, never moving and forcing me to curl up and refuse to move like my body desperately wants to.

A keen sting of betrayal, the anguish of forming a bond so strong only to have it ripped from my still beating heart. Kylo's soon departure is an invisible wound that will never be treated and will never heal in the meantime, leaving my infection only to get worse whilst I am supposed to endure the hardest nine months of my life.

I'm still me, but with a caution and a tinge of bitterness that I never wanted. My womb seems empty for it is impossible to tell if I am pregnant so soon, but Snoke had proved me wrong. In me was a fire that should be just a child—not a weapon, nor a tool, though that's what it will become as I have, too.

I had never wanted any of this for myself as a child, and even into my short span of adulthood. I am a living being, should be blessed but rather cursed with the force. Like myself, a child was more than destruction, more than destiny. We were flesh, we were blood and soul.

I should've endured a loving life. A life so warm it should've intwined with memories of my own mother's love, those small moments of affection that would've built the foundation of who I should've been today; but that was torn away from me... like Five and Kylo would be... leaving me a damaged wreck of a creature.

Damage doesn't stop at one person, it rolls down generations. It's an emotional tornado that ruins lives yet to be called into existence; but I won't allow the trauma and wreck to be transmitted to the next in a lack of nurturing, an inability to form the strength of loving bonds that I now know a person needs.

I will try my hardest to raise a child the way I should've been: with love—though, I wouldn't know how.

The galaxy shines for me again, though my eyes don't have any interest in the stars. Washed with a sense of grief, no different from bereavement, coming in wintry waves. I feel now as if I do not have the strength to care for anything, though I know I'll eventually have to. I want to remain here until something causes me to move away, and then a big hand eventually does.

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