|A dish best served cold
Author: Annabel Willow PM
Five years ago, one boy ruined their lives. Now the opportune moment has come, and the boy will feel pain like he has never felt before.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Suspense - Chapters: 5 - Words: 3,751 - Reviews: 14 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 04-12-13 - Published: 08-30-12 - id: 8482522
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hello again! Sorry, I've been busy. Here's chapter three.
My footsteps echo through the room as I race across the white chamber, filled with a sense of urgency that I have never been filled with before. Urgency, and dread. I dreaded what I would find. Have they been hurt? Could they be dead? Is that why it's so quiet? Even as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it. They're my best friends. I would've known if any of them had died.
Still, the doubt is there. What if they're all dead? No, they couldn't be...
Turning a corner, I stop dead in my tracks. The breath catches in my throat and I let out a hoarse cry. There, lying on the hard, cold floor, is Reeft's dead body. Last night, it was Obi-Wan's. The night before, it was Masters'. They were dead. All dead.
I race forward and kneel next to my friend's corpse. Then, slowly, my hand stretches out and draws the body close to my chest. Hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks and my shoulders shake. It's not true it's not true it's not true...
"I thought Jedi didn't cry."
Whirling around, I look at the woman standing behind me. Her face is covered by hood. I feel like I should know her. She shrugged. "Then again, I thought Jedi didn't to feel anything." She smiles, a cruel, evil smile. I, however, do not. My eyes narrow into slits and my mouth curls into a snarl.
"You did this," I spit venomously at her. "You're the reason he's dead." I clutch the body tighter.
The woman's smile only widens. "Oh, no, my dear Jedi. This is all your fault. He died because of you. Because of what you did to me and my family." She takes a few steps closer and bends down to my eye level. "And so will all the others. You will pay, and we will have our revenge."
"No!" I cry, jolting awake. It takes a second for me to register where I am. I'm not in the white room. I am not clutching Reeft's dead body. Reeft is still alive. I'm in my quarters in the Jedi Temple. My chest heaves, and I struggle to regain control of my breathing. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly but surely, my breathing slows to its normal pace. The initial fear has left, but the fear that I felt when I first got the note remains, a constant and an unwelcome companion, like the dreams.
I close my eyes and center myself in the Force. A few seconds later, I slowly open my eyes and throw the covers off my legs. Taking a deep breath, I stand up and begin to get ready for the day. I can do this. I'm going to talk to Obi-Wan at the noon meal, and I won't think about the note or the dreams until then.
Five minutes until noon meal, and I've failed spectacularly at my goal. The note and the dreams were all I could think about. Same as yesterday, and the day before that, and the one before that, and every day for the past week. It seems that no matter what I do, the fear remains as long as the threat does. No amount of meditation will remove it.
Four minutes. I tiredly rub my hand over my face and through my hair and sigh. Keeping all this secret is killing me inside. This past week, I've hardly slept and I know it shows. Dark circles have been under my eyes for so long it's like they've been there forever. Stress lines are easily visible on my face and I've fallen asleep over the evening meal more than once.
Three minutes. My Master has noticed all this, and I can feel her concern for my well-being through the Force. I've dodged her questions and refused her offers of help so many times she's stopped asking. My friends have noticed, too. Of course they would. It's impossible for us to hide anything from each other, all of us being friends since we were in the creche. All of us know each other too well.
Two minutes. I'm not sure, but I think my instructors and the other Masters have noticed the change in me, too. My grades have slipped a little, and I haven't been eating a lot lately. My teachers have asked me if I need any help with the work, and each time I politely tell them no, thank you, and I've gotten looks from other Jedi. Some curious, some knowing, some worried. I'm worried, too.
One minute. Every second waiting is agony. My eyes dart around the room and my hands tremble in my lap. I'm so nervous about talking with Obi-Wan. What will he say? Hopefully he'll understand why I haven't told anyone sooner, but what if he doesn't? Will he be angry? Forsake our friendship because I didn't tell him before now? Suddenly I start to second guess myself.
Rrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnnggggggg ggg... Time's up. I stand up and grab my work bag, nervously fingering the strap as I stride out of the classroom and begin to walk towards Obi-Wan's quarters. After all this time wanting time to speed up, I find myself wishing that time would freeze, and I would never have to face Obi-Wan's reaction. It's inevitable, though, as I find myself looking at the golden nameplate of the Jinn/Kenobi quarters.
Raising a shaking fist, I knock on the door, and wait. If I'm going to back out, now would be the time t do it.
The door opens, and my best friend breaks into a smile when he sees me. Before he can say anything, though, I interrupt, my face serious.
"We need to talk."
There you go! The next chapter will include the talk with Obi-Wan and the plot will finally be in motion.