Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or any other referenced subject utilised in this story. This is done purely for pleasure and not profit.
THE REAL WORLD
The New Frontier
In our world- the real world- the Force is nothing but a plot device conjured up by a film maker. Or so we believe. Where did the idea, the myth, come from? After all, everything has a basis in fact, even the things we accept as sheer, spontaneous imagination.
Ideas are some of the most resilient things in the universe. They get inside your head, take hold, never faltering until achieved. Where do they come from? Some do simply come from simple imagination. Some aren't ideas at all. Some are facts, events, beliefs that resonate across time, across space, embedding themselves in the minds of those far away inspiring their folklore, their religions, their societies. Events, histories repeat themselves because it's happened before, implanting subconscious suggestion in those of the present and those yet to come. The Force is real, just like that Galaxy, far, far away…
Earth scientists have known about the Force for years. They just didn't recognise what they were looking at. We call it dark energy, that theorised fifth force the universe operates on.
Earth never recognised it for what it was because no one had the ability to harness it. Until now.
Being a nerd had its ups and downs.
"Ups" included the fact that you could lose yourself in your favourite worlds of make-believe and fantasy when the harsh facts of reality struck against you time and time again. You could find solace in the internet circles, arguing about canon and storylines and whatever else with your zealous brethren.
"Downs" were, admittedly, far more numerous. You were a target for bullies, and the effective antithesis to everything the popular girl liked in a boyfriend. Especially that really kind one you secretly fancied since you first laid eyes on her…
So yeah. Nerds rule and suck all at the same time.
The name's Isaac and I just happen to be such a nerd. A fact probably exacerbated by my tendency to be nice to everyone on the belief that eventually it'll all work out like it does on the television. The nice guy gets the girl and lives happily ever after, and all that jazz. It doesn't, but ,y'know, dreams are nice.
It was a normal day, just like any other.
Typical British weather (grey skies, all likelihood of rain.), people out and about the town, scurrying to and fro. Some were walking dogs. Some were making that quick trip to the shop. Some were simply walking for the sake of it.
I was running. Sixteen-nearly-seventeen and I was bloody running. From bullies. I always managed to piss off the clique of people who clung to the old primary school ways of bullying. Maybe it was because I had a disposition towards smart comments. Maybe it was the fact I was different to the standard of perceived coolness.
Most likely it was the fact I had a well-known infatuation with the girlfriend of said clique's leader.
Pretty sure it's the first two, though.
I turned right and all too late realised my mistake. My cock-up of cock-ups. I had turned into a cull-de-sac. A dead end. Shit!
I stopped running, and slowly turned around. Just as expected, four boys my age, though far greater in stature and aggression tendency, stood before me. Malevolent grins promised only pain for my escape attempts.
"Fancy seeing you here?"
They were going too far. They had crossed the line from simple-minded bullying to actual, malicious harm. They were going to throw me in the river. Tied up. Gagged. Unable to escape or swim.
In short, they were going to murder me.
Of course, they took everything of value first. Wallet, phone, iPod…after all, what was the point of murder if you had nothing to show from it?
I didn't bother to struggle. No point. They were too strong. I was already dead. I had my head bowed, shaking in fear, hands and feet numbed from the lack of circulation due to the too-tight fibre rope lashing them together.
They didn't say anything. No last remarks, no taunts. They say your life flashes before your eyes as your about to pass onto the next big adventure, but all I felt was a dull ache from the rope and the saddened realisation of all that I was about to lose.
All those dreams. All my half-baked ideas. My brilliant family(had I ever told them how much they meant to me?). No friends to think of though. Life ambitions (Comic-Con, PAX, living to see Star Wars, Episode VII.), never to be fulfilled. Love. Tessa. Her eyes…
All it took was a single hand. The slightest application of force and I was drowning in the water.
I thrashed against my binds desperately. Of course I did. Eventually I could hold my breath no longer and I was forced to take a liquid breath of water. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break free, couldn't break the surface.
Eventually, my body stopped responding, and I sunk to the river's bed. Darkness swam in and out of vision, and all too soon I knew no more, lost to the eternal abyss.
This is not your grave. After all. There is no death.
"There is the Force?"
A/N: Read/Review. Ideas, criticism etc wanted.