Disclaimer: Don't own. But I wish I did. Han and Vader. And a TIE, and the Millennium Falcon. Authors note: I started writing this when I was really mad at someone. It went away, but some of these feelings were mine, and I just wanted to write it down, because anger isn't red, and fiercely. It's just painful. (Not all those feelings were mine. Just some, and it really started out as me trying to write it off, but that's just half a page. The rest was writen about 5 months later) On with the story...


It's not like most people think it is. And I do not enjoy it, like everybody thinks.

Not even the Emperor enjoys it, even if everyone think he does. He enjoys power. The feeling of being superior and his perverse pleasure of destroying human beings, piece by piece. I do not want anyone to live a life like mine. It is no life. People flinching the moment they see me. Why should that please me? I am, was, a person once, too. I once cared for people. People once cared for me.

I once had a reason to live.

Now all I have is anger and hate. I hate what I have become. Hate what I do everyday. Hate the people around me, who trembles with fear every time I am close. I can sense it. I never sense anything else. Just fear. But above all, I hate Obi-Wan. He did this to me. He turned me into the monster I am today, both in appearance and mind.

A black pit of anger in my stomach makes me feel physically ill. It's overwhelming. I wish I could stop it, but I can't. I wish I could destroy the anger within me. Just grab it and throw it into space. Be rid of it forever and live without this pit inside. Not kill when it becomes too much. I truly understand what the Jedi always tried to imprint in my mind. "Once you turn to the dark side, impossible to return, it is. Forever it will dominate your destiny." I had never taken it seriously. I was my own master. I was in control of my own actions. But I was wrong. There is no way back to the light. I am lost in the darkness, and cannot find the way out myself. Not on my own, and no one will come to help me. Least of all Kenobi. He was the one who did all this to me. He was the one to push me into that pit, and for that, I will not forgive him. For that, I will kill him, if we ever meet again.

When Kenobi is dead, I might find peace. The anger might vanish. But I will not know until he is dead, and therefore, I am eating myself up from inside. I am gnawing on my inside, feeling the pain grow deeper by each day, but I cannot stop it. I will see Kenobi dead, or I will die as an empty shell, destroyed by none other than myself. And not even I deserve such an end.

My rage and hate was considered my strength, and still is, but not by me. I thought it would help me gain my revenge, and it did, but it was not enough. It never is. I thought it would end with Obi-Wan, but it didn't. Slashing someone down in rage does not change me. It did not turn me back to what I used to be. I hate him even more now. Hate him for taking my son away. He is my son. I know it now. The pilot who blew up the death star.

He came to me. My son came to me, when I called for him. He came to save his friends, and I could sense nothing but light in him. But after all, that is the meaning of his name. Luke is light, and light is Luke. He stumbled and strayed from the Light when I revealed myself to him. I felt deep inside that I didn't want him to stray, but that was the only way for us to be together, if he fell as well. For I cannot get up. It is too late for me, my son. He jumped. Jumped instead of turning into me. I didn't feel the anger I was supposed to feel. All I felt was sadness, and relief. Should a father feel relief when his son would rather die then be like him? I do, because this is a cursed life. It is no life, and I would rather my son turned one with the Force than live a half life.

He is so strong. He wants to turn me back, and I feel both pride and despair. Pride, because he doesn't give up on me, though everyone else has, and despair, because he should have given up. There is nothing left of me to save.

So, you have a sister. Now that I know, Obi Wan's failure is finally complete. This brought me no satisfaction.

The Emperor is killing him. Killing him in such a cruel way. There are other, quicker and less painful ways, but he is a sadistic old man, who takes pleasure in others pain. I can see myself in him, lying on the floor, crying for help. Not crying for Vader to help him, not even Anakin. He cries for his father. And I want to help him. But I can't. Then it dawns upon me. Who his sister is. Princess Leia Organa, former senator, and rebel leader. Leia Organa Skywalker. And I see how much she looks like her mother. And I can feel her mother begging me to help her son. Our son. And I do. The Emperor is finally gone, and I am once again free. And I do not feel hate anymore.

My son is trying to save me. He doesn't understand. Doesn't understand that he already has. I am free again, and soon, I will be one with the Force. Master Yoda was wrong. It is possible to walk away from the Dark Side, but not on your own.

Let me see you... with my own eyes. He looks so much like me when I was young. Hopefully he isn't as whiney as I was. When I think back, I remember so much that was once forgotten. So many thing I used to care about. I remember my mother, but not her dying hour. I remember how she took care of me, and loved me. I remember how Obi Wan was there for me, even if I couldn't see it then. How he always wanted what was best for me, but he was too young to train a padawan. How he cared for me, but I refused to see it, and now I know I loved him like a father, and still do. And I regret his death. And I remember my wife. How beautiful she was when I first saw her, and how much I loved her. I do not know how she died, but I hope to meet her now. And my two beautiful children. Tell your sister you were right. She looks so much like her mother. So much... And she is as brave as she was. I swear by the Force, that if that Solo ever hurt her, I will come back and haunt him till his dying day. You tell him that Luke. I love you, my son. I do now. There is no more hate left. Not even for the Emperor. I only pity him, for being crippled by the Dark Side.

All I see is light. I can see Luke sitting over me, and I tell him to go. To leave me. I am so proud of him, but I don't want him to die here. But somehow, I know he'll be alright. And I finally close my eyes for the last time. Finally, I am truly at peace.

Authors note: Now, I would be truly grateful for a review. Please? And if you have the time, read my other stories. Man of Stars/Tinwe Othas isn't to good, so you might want to skip those, but even if don't read any of my other stories, please leave a review. (And would you bother to leave a review for Dream School? It's my younger sisters story, and it's very short, and she truly loves reviews! It's on my bio)