JediKaren

Thank you. At that point in the story, I decided I needed some fun. It gets rather boring writing about emotions all day long. Anyway, I will keep adding in little tid bits of fun in the story to keep me and the readers interested. So, here's the next chapter. Enjoy and thank you for reading! Lucky for me, no questions were asked by Master Skywalker. Minutes after I left, Luke Skywalker got a message on his com link, a communication device that could be compared to a cell phone, having him leave the academy for a week. Master Mirmo was thoroughly confused on what my little show was about, but left it for Luke to handle. Of course, when Master Mirmo came in later that afternoon, I was not aware of that. ”œYou shouldn't spend so much time in your room, Karen”

A few days later all students were given a day off from classes. The teachers did this once a week, to give the students time to rest and have fun. I decided this would be a good day to stay in bed and catch up on my sleep. Unfortunately for me, my master did not share my idea. He came into my room, we had programmed the door to let him in without my permission. I heard him come in, but decided to stay put under my soft warm blanket, lying peacefully on my comfortable mattress. ”œTime to get up, Karen. You can not spend the whole day in bed”

When I think of the difficulty in the classes, I am reminded of the college numbering system. The first classes I had been placed in before I was apprenticed were the 100s. They were meant to be easy and an introduction into the subject. The classes were designed not to cause stress, letting the students grow use to the way of life at the Jedi temple. Once the students were placed or worked up to the 101 and 102 classes, they were thought to be use to our surroundings enough to be useful and help with the house chores. There were plenty of chores like cooking, dusting, sweeping, washing the floors, doing laundry, cleaning plates, and tending the small garden. While no one loved doing any of the chores, there were certain chores someone loathed. Masters and the head house keeper noted these dislikes and used them as punishments for misbehaving apprentices and students. I personally hated washing the floor. It was strange because I didn't mind sweeping, but scrubbing the floor with this mop like thing on a stick and having to dip into this stinky solution, was far from fun. It involved a lot of cursing from me, but I was careful to keep it very much under my breath. While my master allowed cursing, he said once that he was guilty of it; he was strict about me keeping it to him or myself behind closed doors. About a week after the anger talk, I was trying to get past a droid, one of the very few here at the temple. I was late to a class, a very important lightsaber class, when a droid was blocking the hallway. The droid said something about an accident and for my own safety; it would not let me through. I tried to be polite, that didn't work. I tried to threaten the droid. That didn't work. I refused to let a droid order me around. My temper fired up so much that I started cursing, demanding the droid let me through that instant. ”œApprentice Karen Nightingstar!”

Yes, that will be worked on more. As for the classes, pay attention because I will continue to have them play a part of her training (with a few laughs)

Classes started off with morning, mundane exercise class, with only a slight increase in difficulty. I started to wonder why Master Mirmo hadn't moved up to a harder class, but then I thought about what a harder class would involve and was grateful for the easiness of the stretching and light exercises we did. I still dreaded the day I would have to run any distance. I was nearly holding my breath until then. When that was over, I went through the maze of hallways that was now making a lot more sense and true to my word; I wondered why I couldn't understand how to find my room on the first few days. I entered a new hallway, one that held the more advance skills. I peered into windows in the doors to see what these classrooms were like. I saw the floors were matted and knew these must be sparring rooms. I found the room I was looking for and joined a class all milling around, chatting. This class was different from my normal ones. The students were bits older, in their mid to late teens, making me feel like I could blend in and be accepted more. The class turned out to be a lecture on lightsabers. We were taught a lightsaber is not a toy and never to be handled lightly. In this class we would learn to properly wield a lightsaber, how to fight each other, learn strategies, learn the difference between defending and attacking, and how to fight remotes and droids. A lightsaber was dangerous weapon, capable of causing serious harm, even taking a life. To demonstrate this, the teacher ignited her lightsaber. The blade was truly amazing. The blade meant so many things, power, grace, strength, light, hope, and fear. She held out her hand, rolling up her sleeve, and I instantly, but wincing already, at the idea of what she was going to do. The shining and humming lightsaber was brought close to her hand. I saw the expression of deep concentration on her face. I tested the Force in her and found the Force swirling around her. She took the light blue blade to her left hand. You could clearly hear skin swizzle in the heat of the blade. She held the blade there, causing more mental pain to the students than I think she was going through. What she was doing was absorbing the energy from the blade into her and directing the energy out of her. She also must have numbed her hand and arm before hand, for she showed on excruciating pain on her face as one might expect. When she took the blade away and deactivate the blade everyone could see a blacken wound on her hand. I didn't want to think how much that had to hurt or if she did this for all beginning classes. The feat was incredibly impressive, but I felt unnecessary and somewhat foolish. The rest of the class did not share my belief and all had shocked looks on their faces. The class was ended early and I was willing to bet credits, as they called currency here, that the teacher was headed to an angry healer. The other, new class of interest was my new Force class. I found I was in the same group as the last lightsaber class. The class setting was another meditation chamber, though somewhat bigger than the one Master Mirmo taught in. The class was taught by another woman, who seemed to prefer pacing around rather than sit with the class. The details of the class, to me, were not very interesting. The teacher knew much about the Force, but she was a lousy teacher. It did not help me at all, to say I already knew all she went over. We went over how to feel the Force within us and then told how to feel the Force outside of our bodies. Some students struggled with this assignment. I found it all too easy and stretched my Force awareness to the entire room. It wasn't that I was trying to show off, but simply to stretch my mind like I stretched my limbs earlier that morning. It didn't matter, the teacher still did not approve of it. ”œKaren, when I tell you to go beyond the assignment, then please do so. Otherwise refrain from showing off to the class”

thank you all for the comments! I'm glad you all are enjoying the story. I know it was a bit confusing at the start, but as you can see, I had a reason. It makes the story more interesting and makes people want to read more to understand it. I'll post the next chapter in a day or two.

As fast as the strong reaction of the injection came, it left with the same speed. I woke up in the healer's room with an IV still in my arm, wires attached to me and hooked to a machine, but feeling fine. My master was sitting in a chair beside my bed. He looked to be asleep, but I wasn't sure if he was in some sort deep meditation. I cautious reached into the flow of Force, connecting myself to his presence, and sort of mentally poked him to see if he was asleep or not. He opened his eyes to my surprise, critically looking over me to see if my health had improved. When he saw the shining, active spirit within my eyes and the glow of my skin, his face seemed to relax, telling me of the tale of a long night full of worry for him. There was a tinge of pain in me, as I realized he cared about me that much. No one ever stood the night up worrying over me, not even my parent. I greeted him with an overly cheerful tone to full let him know I was fine. He nodded, but remained quiet. I puzzled over his silence, wondering what it meant. No quick look at him could tell me anything, proving his shields were back up. A healer came in with a tray of food. I wondered how she knew I was hungry, not to mention starving, since I had gone past twenty four hours without a bit of anything. I looked that the beeping machine and then at my master and knew the answer was the Force. In many ways, I was still pretty brand new to the Force and using it, despite my years of study. I could not think in terms of living with the Force. The Force was still something I accessed when I wanted or thought about it. A true, fully trained Jedi, breathed the Force, and didn't even think about the simple skills I spent years ingraining into myself. I still had a lot to learn. The healer put the tray down and looked at my read outs. She said that she wanted me to stay the day here and rest for the day. I groaned, not bothering to hide it. I was not fan of lying on a bed, not being allowed to move around when I felt fine. The healer left, saying in an hour she would take out the IV. I ate breakfast along with Mirmo. He smiled at my groan and told me I could spend the time refining my meditation skills. I looked at him for a long minute before taking another bite of some strange red fruit that was oddly sweet and tangy. I was not fond of lying still and trying to clear my mind. Doing it for more than thirty minutes was really pushing my tolerance. I was sure my master could and would look forward to dedicating an extended period of time like I had to this exercise. Just for that idea I decided not to meditate. In the end, I spent twelve boring hours lying on the bed, not doing much. The healer had the Force and the Force had eyes to tell her if a restless me was getting out of bed for the fifth time. I was allowed to take a shower, eat meals, and a data pad to read, but other than that, she wanted me still and quiet. Those were not the usual activities of a hyper, healthy young woman. On the ninth time of getting caught out of bed, she proclaimed me as healthy, but warned me to watch out for lingering signs of reactions. I respectful nodded, remembering my master's orders, and thanked the strict healer for her time and taking care of me so well. She grated out a response, but I knew she was utterly sick of me. I went to my room, not to rest or play with computer, but to gather my music player and find an empty room. I turned up the music fairly loud and danced until I was lost in the music. I got to the point I no longer thought, my body became one with the beat, and the Force guided my moves. This was a state I belonged in. I was happy and complete here. The rest of the world, the universe could melt away with the drama, the pain, the fear of life. I was here, in the ever lasting now, with my music. Dancing is an art and I am an artist. Dancing is the silent, but much said, expression of the soul. The day started off with Mirmo giving me a new class schedule. I looked to see some classes had been advanced to a harder level and others remained the same. I still had basic exercising, basic Jedi philosophy, I was placed in a Force class, and a lightsaber class! I saw that I still was stuck in basic meditation with him as my teacher. I looked up at my teacher, pondering why I was still in that class. I thought it was clear I could meditate and I should advance. ”œAnd yet you still can not control your emotions.”

Ch15 I went quiet when Mirmo finished the story. I had questions about certain parts of his past, but at the same time I didn't want to ask them. I tried to ignore my somewhat upset stomach that had been feeling uneasy for most of the story. I figured I must have eaten something new and my stomach didn't like it at all. I went back to remembering how my family never supported my training and how I was constantly teased for my interest in the Force and what the Force could do. I had learned to hide my training from my parents, learning how to come up with games that on the surface looked like play, but really was an exercise in learning how to sense emotions, or people, or some other skill. I didn't mention to any of my friends at school what I was doing or even that I wanted to be Jedi. My planet didn't support my beliefs. I could easily identify with the feeling of being strange, different, not like everyone else. I never had very many friends all through out my schooling. I never could get close to anyone. Over time, I became conscious of this ability and made myself get closer, but there was always a distance between my closest friends. Perhaps, the distance between us was the Force, or my secret. It was sad to say, but I was good at lying to people. It was a necessary skill at my home when one had incredible strict and unfair parents. I found that I could keep any secret that I wanted to. It wasn't too hard, if no one even thought you had something to hide. My stomach started to hurt even more, threatening to send me to the refresher. I looked at my new master. He was also quiet, withdrawn, and my guess was he was in the past, his past. I said nothing, so not to disturb his thoughts. I was a natural empathy, meaning I could feel from others and understand emotions since I was born. I knew to the exact point how he felt and knew to leave him alone. This remembering of the past was part of the healing process. One should never try to lock and put away forever their emotions, but occasionally open the box and take a look. Looking was painful, but good for the spirit. It reminded the person how much they have grown and lets them compare the past with the present. I felt a flash of heat. Ohh, my stomach was really bothering me. I fought the urge, trying to calm my stomach and wait this attack out. No luck. I got up. My master was still lost in the past and didn't notice me. I was hoping just standing up might help, but within seconds I found myself hurrying to the bathroom to be violently sick. I was about to come out of the refresher when my stomach heaved again, sending me back to leaning over the toilet. The time I came out, I was sticky with sweaty, shaking, my holding my stomach which still hurt and felt hollow. Master Mirmo had returned to the present and looked at me with a worried expression. He asked me if I was ok. I told him I didn't know. I had no idea why I got sick so suddenly. He walked over and felt my forehead. He said I should go back to my room and get some rest. I did so, not in the mood to argue with him, just in time to run to my own bathroom and be sick again. This was already starting to get old. An hour later, I was in bed, sweating, miserable with a very upset, empty stomach. I still felt hot, maybe more than before. My mind was buzzing with the story, unable to quiet down. My body was too tied up with the sickness to give me peace. There was a knock that I recognized to be Master Mirmo. I got up from my mattress and pressed the green button. Master Mirmo told me to go back to my bed and be quiet. He was holding a tray that has some sort of scanner, a glass, and a small black bag. I went back to my bed, but didn't put on the blanket. I was too hot to stand the warmth of my wool like, bantha combed blanket. He put the tray on the floor, next to my cot, and felt my forehead again. I saw him frown as he realized my fever had gone up. He asked me how I felt. I told him my stomach still hurt. He picked up the scan, pressed a few buttons and aimed it at my face. I flinched as a red beam of light passed over my head. He moved the scanner across my body all the way down to my feet. I didn't feel anything, but I still didn't move a muscle. He looked up at the scanner and proclaimed I was running a mid grade fever. He took the cup from the tray, went to the refresher, filled the cup up with water and gave to me to drink, cautioning me to drink the water slowly. Mirmo moved over to pick up the black bag. Once he opened the bag, I saw what I feared it to be. There was a small medicine bottle, a needle, and a pad. I immediately knew what was going to happen. I asked him why he was giving me a shot. He said the medicine would stop the fever and put me to sleep. I panicked for a second, before remembering a Jedi skill. I asked him what about using the Force to put me to sleep. He shook his head and explained to me why. We were just beginning a long, serious road of my training. Our link was not very strong yet. He stopped me before I could protest against that statement. A Jedi mind is very strong and has much will power, backed by the Force. In order for him to control my thoughts, I would have to be very willing. I would have to take down my shield. He stopped me again as I opened my mouth to take offense. In a few months, I would be able to do this, but until then, he would have to give me this injection. He asked me to hold out my arm. I did so unwilling, but turned my head so I stared at the wall. I closed my eyes shut as the needle went in. I didn't feel the prick, but I knew he had done it. It was a lot less worse of a shot, for it was short. He took my arm in his hand and gently rubbed the area. He put my arm back down and pulled the blanket on my legs, saying later on I would cool off and welcome the warmth. He spoke in a soft, calming voice, lulling me into slowing down my thoughts and embracing the grasp sleep had on me. I soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep. I woke up a few hours from dawn, groggy, but still with a trouble stomach. I went to the bathroom to vomit. My reflection in the mirror didn't make me feel any better when I was done. I was pale as a ghost, sweat shining on my face, my checks blushing from the internal heat wave, and my hair matted, twisted, and greasy. I slowly made my way back to the mattress to lie down. I stopped, know lying down wasn't going to help and went to my computer. For some time I continued my project to learn, play and understand this insanely complex machine. There was knocking at my door and by accident, I hit the black button. I cursed and told the door to open. To my surprise, the door slide open, showing me my master. I took a step backwards to let him into the room. He saw the computer on and asked if I couldn't sleep. When I nodded, he felt my forehead for two seconds and ordered me back to bed. He got me another cup of water and asked if I had vomited again since he put me to sleep and if so, when. I told him about two hours ago. He questioned me further about my condition and came to his conclusion. The healer had warned him that only very young children were supposed to get this vaccine. The older you got, the more likely and worse the reaction was going to be. So she told Mirmo to look for excessive vomiting, sweating, chills, and fevers. There was little they could do for me, but to wait for my body to adjust to the weaken germs. They were against giving me medicine, unless my fever spiked, so my body could gain full strength. So, the day was spent with me lying on my bed, going through all those symptoms. Master Mirmo was kind enough to stay the entire day with me, telling me stories to keep my mind off the sickness, pausing to let me run to the bathroom. He tried his hardest to keep be hydrated, but I couldn't keep water down very well. He would meditate for the few times I slept in a fitful manner. By the evening I was pretty weak and stay quiet for long periods of time. My master grew worried at my silence and forced me to go to the healer's office. There, it was announced I was fairly dehydrated and running a high fever. The healer placed an IV into my arm, but I was so out of it, I barely knew what was going on. All I could remember was my master stroking my hair and holding my hand, telling me something about holding on.

Ch14 For two hours Mirmo told me stories of his past, while I curled up quietly on his bed, giving him my full, undivided attention. His history was quite fascinating and really explained a lot about him and why I was picked. Mirmo grew up on a small planet, in a medium size community on the western side of an island. The town was not rich, nor poor, but not very close. Neighbors barely knew each other and there were few town socials. His family lived in a small house with three children and both parents working overtime to just barely pay the bills and provide food for fiver hungry mouths. There were constant fights between the parents over money and the rules of the house. Money was a big problem and constantly on the minds of the entire family. The family was further apart in friendliness then the town. Both parents were strict in following rules, overly harsh with punishments, and gave little affection attention to their children. The three siblings, only a few years apart, found a bond among each other, for that was the only way to survive in the tough conditions of their home. The oldest of them, became a mother to the two younger boys, keeping the troublesome boy from aggravating the tired and snappy parents, while giving hugs and kisses when needed. The two bothers were close, but Mirmo was never able to bond too closely with anyone in his family, not to mention with anyone else in the town. Since Mirmo was a small boy, he knew he was different. It took him years to explain why, but he could never be like other children his age. He felt an energy, one he knew was not air, not sunlight, nor the breeze. He learned over the years he could manipulate this energy to cause small things to happen. Books slide off tables or the walls shook when he became overpowered with rage. This ability scared him, causing unexplained headaches, which often turned into migraines. At times, he was able to know what was behind his back, even if he had never looked or knew. These abilities made him feel different and alone. He would and could never tell anyone this secret. His parents tried their hardest to scold and beat this strangeness out of him. His siblings were confused by these strange acts that seemed to occur around him. It wasn't until his late teens did Mirmo find out what made him different from the other people in his town. Luke Skywalker, a new figure in the news, was making a trip to his planet. Mirmo happened to in the same market square when another mysterious event happened, brought by a surge of anger. Mirmo, surrounded by young men his age, was being made fun of his weirdness next to a fountain with a large statue spouting a stream of water. The anger in Mirmo was growing rapidly; to the point he thought he would explode. The Force had been growing in Mirmo for his outbreaks in the Force where happening more frequently and strongly. There was a loud crack and half the statue loudly slid off and crashed on the stone street. The entire market went dead silent and set all eyes on the young and small Mirmo. Luke, who had felt the Force's warning before the event had happen, raised his hands to direct the crowd's attention to him. He admitted to the accident and apologized for his mistake. He loudly announced that he would talk to the town's leader and gladly pay to replace the statue. The crowd, startled and annoyed at the Jedi, went back to their shopping. Luke quietly approached the scared and shaking Mirmo and led him out of the crowd to a dark, hushed street, where no one would bother them. Luke spent several hours talking to the young man, explaining what and why had happened, telling the boy of the Force. He told Mirmo a brief past of the grand Jedi order and how Luke was trying to restore it. Mirmo, full of excitement and wondered if Luke would help learn about the Force. Luke smiled, but shook his head. He wanted but, at the current time he was just starting up an academy for Force sensitive people and he already found his quota. Not to disappoint the young man, Luke promised to come back in a few years when his academy had settled down and a training program was firmly decided. The Jedi knight gave Mirmo an important assignment to find out all he could on the Jedi, to help Luke learn more of what he was bringing back. Mirmo eagerly accepted this assignment, recklessly promising to bring volumes and volumes of ancient scripts and holovids. With a warning of controlling Mirmo's temper, Luke left the late teenager to find the leader of the town. During the next three years, Mirmo worked hard on his assignment. At first he found it hard, for the Jedi and their information had been nearly wiped away from history, but Mirmo got lucky. He slowly found clues and hints of the Jedi and learned to think as the old Jedi did when it came to hiding information. He learned to read between the lines to find clues that eventually lead him to bits of tales and facts a Jedi had wrote himself. It took years of searching little tad bits, but Mirmo slowly saw a bigger picture of the Jedi order. During this time, he found a steady job that allowed him to work alone. He left home shortly after meeting the Jedi and swore he would live a better life than of his parents. At the end of three years, Mirmo had grown into a tall, lean man, well educated, living fairly well off, and happy with his life. He came to accept his abilities and learn to respect the Force. He was never much liked by the town, but that never bothered him. Unfortunately, he was still an easy target to make fun of and try to beat up. One night he found himself trapped in a corner, surrounded by several partly drunk men who thought it was time for a monthly beating up of Mirmo. They were about to start punching him when they all suddenly did a complete change in mood and in body language and decided they were more interested in another beer, then pounding the young man. When the men had gone back to their seats, Mirmo got a look around the bar to see what if he was safe to quietly slip out. He spotted Luke Skywalker sitting at table near by and decided to join the Jedi. Luke and Mirmo had much to talk about, especially Mirmo's finds. Luke was impressed with the man's work and offered a spot in his academy. Mirmo's eyes were shining as he agreed to come. For another two years Mirmo trained like never before to learn to control his abilities and become a stronger, better man. At the same time, he was healing emotionally and spiritually from the rough years with his family. When he was knighted, he privately swore not to take an apprentice until he found me. He traveled long and far, but during the few times he spent teaching meditation at the academy, he saw no one could who he felt was worth of training. He had easily seen the subtle marks of abuse during the first class and instantly became interested in learning more of me. When he saw my breakdown and how I had opened up, he painfully remembered his childhood. When he caught me in the act of using the Force during the dance, he had to smile because he knew the lie I told him well. I was a similar image of his past and he hoped to help me heal and grow as a Jedi. It was had been twelve years since he came to Luke's academy and truly I was a special one, since I was his first apprentice.

It was another day of pacing in the small waiting room, sweating, shaking, and being in state of dreadful terror. The worst was part my new Master, Mirmo, was sitting calming in a chair, reminding me every five minutes to sit down and breathe. I would sit down for a few seconds before my nervous state drove me crazy and restless. I would stand up and find myself pacing again. What was causing me so much stress was getting my second vaccine shot in just a few short minutes. ”œKaren, you may come in now”

On the odd chance that someone cares to read this, here's the next chapter A day later I was woke up to a knock on the door of my room. I was pulled out of a good dream, one that I was highly interested in and did not want it to end without know how the dream would turn out. I sleepily made my way to the door and pressed the green button to access the door. A woman, one I did not recognize, greeted me and handed me a data pad. I took a second to examine the strange piece of technology. I read the word on the small screen and froze. I was to report to the council chamber in an hour. Later, I found myself sweating like never before. I was shaking, my bones rattling, and unable to keep still. My legs nervously paced my body in a small line back and forth. My mind was mostly frozen in panic, except for the part that was crying and begging me to go back to my room and hide beneath the warm, safe blankets. My hair was a soaked mess and I could imagine what my face looked like. My mouth was dry, but I had no want for water. I tried to breathe, but my chest was constricted by my fear. I could not let go of my desperate, paralyzing fear. I was terrified of standing before the council. I was out of my mind with fear just standing, near the door to the chamber. What had I done? I had to be in trouble. It must have been Master Mirmo. He told them of my secret. He told them I had hid my past training, I had held back information. I had broken the rules. Why did he do this? What had I done? Was it because I could not feel the Force when he asked me the first time? From what my senses told me, he wasn't that anger over that. I could not understand the logic of this possible option. I tried a different route of reasoning why I was here. Maybe I had done something right. Maybe the council wanted me to do something. Just maybe, I was going to be rewarded. I couldn't explain that either. My mind returned back to the idea of being in trouble. Gosh, I would pay millions to get out this hallway. I could not even realistically think of myself walking through that door to a group of well trained Jedi, who all could read my mind. I hated the idea that Jedi could read me. Yes, I could read them, but I didn't want anyone to be able to do the same with me. I could not create a shield to protect my thoughts for that would have been considered rude and then they would question why I was trying to hide. I could not show them this terror, but I could not get rid of it. Why was I waiting here? Couldn't they just stop terrorizing me and just get this horrible event over with? The door on the other side of the hall opened. I jumped a foot in pure surprise and agitation. What was he doing here? Master Mirmo walked in, looking calm and cool as he always done. I swear the man is in love with meditation, for he must spend his whole life sitting on some cold hard floor and not thinking. ARG! How could he be so calm when so close to the awe inspiring presence of the council? We made eye contact and I swear he was about to start laughing at me. I want to do something to him, something to wipe that smiling because I'm an emotional mess off his face. I was also angry at him because he must of told the council of all this. He broke the secret, ruined what little trust I had for him. He came up to me and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. ”œRelax Karen. This isn't your death sentence”

Master Mirmo had not given up learning more of my secret past. He seemed to be stubbornly bent on the idea of my past training. He wanted to know what I could do, what did I know, and how I knew it. For the next three days, he spent more and more time during classes and even outside of classes, seeing what he could surprise out of me. The next day was an interesting day. There were no different classes, yet it was different. When I walked into the meditation room, I was in for a surprise. The class was buzzing in the Force. They were very chatty. It was only then I remembered what was today's lesson was. We were going to learn how to feel the Force for the time. Everyone seemed to have an idea of what the Force was going to feel like. Some students worried over if they could calm down their mind enough. Some thought they would be able to lift others with the Force as soon as they felt it. When they turned their questions on me about the Force, I shrugged and said we would see what happens. They were not very satisfied with that answer, so they went back to asking and answering the same thing again. I was not very excited over this class because this would be another review. What made it worse is I had spent three years teaching Force sensitive teenagers on my planet how to feel and use the Force. At this point, I was rather sick of going through the same steps and explaining the same answers over and over. Feeling the Force was no big deal when compared to shielding, or forms of telekinesis. These students would be excited over the Force for about a few weeks before they were ready to curse out their lack of control when the classes got harder. Since I knew all of this by heart, and since only one person knew my secret, I had to pretend that I was somewhat interested to avoid awkward questions. My only worry was could I fake this? Could I fine tune my control so I only felt a tiny bit of the awesome, unlimited energy? I had spent so many years feeling as much of the Force as I could, that I was uncertainly if I could keep myself slipping back into old habits. Well, as I said to the student, I would have to see what happened. The class, as usual, became quiet, but uncommonly attentive when Master Mirmo walked in. He noted this and smiled. Oh, he knew how excited everyone was. He knew how much we each privately were highly impatient for this day. He began with another talk about the Force and a story to go along with it. I didn't need the Force to tell the class was chomping at the bite to be told how to feel the Force. He finally told us. It was much like the meditation we had been practicing for a week, but this time we were told to discover the Force within us. I mentally shook my head. This was hardly how I taught it and I had a pretty good success rate at getting people to feel the Force. Still, it was a different method, and perhaps he might know what he was talking about. We went to our normal spot in the room, mine being the right back corner. I waited for the class to settle down and focus within themselves. I turned inwardly, closed my eyes, but did not do anything. I heard Master Mirmo give a word or two of advice to different students, usually the ones who had the hardest time relaxing. I heard his footsteps come closer and slightly tensed. I reached out, but held myself back on purpose. I made a mental shield between me and the energy around me. I could reach out and touch the shield, but I would not feel the Force. This way I could say I was trying, but I couldn't go overboard. ”œLet go Karen”

I looked at him, fighting to keep a confused look on my face. I asked what was that. ”œThe way you danced”

The bed was comfortable; the blankets were soft and warm. The sleep was peaceful and healing. A hand touched my right shoulder and gently shook me awake. At first, I didn't open my eyes, but wondered where I was. I knew this was not my bed, nor my room. I wondered if I was at home and if there was a cat on my bed, something was too different for that to be true. I felt different. The air felt different. The room did not give off the same feeling as the one at home. At home, I would have been woken up with a voice, not a touch. I opened my eyes to see a wall. The wall confused me. I was no at home, nor at my room in the temple. I turned over and looked at the rest of room and only at the sight of Master Mirmo, did I recognize where I was. I shifted my body so I was flat on my back. I felt calm, like I had spent the night meditating with him guiding me. My body was relaxed and felt well rested. My mind was clear and simple in thoughts. It was his presence that forced me to remember why I was here and what happened the night before. The memory brought a blush to my face. I had lost all self control after allowing my emotions build up to a breaking point. He had to once again, come and rescue me from my own dark down fall. My mind told be I shouldn't be here, but my body thought otherwise. ”œCome, it's time for you to get up”

The darkness was suffocating me. Everything about my home was wrong, so wrong. My cats looked thin, mistreated, and in pain. The house was so clean and so dim. The lights were out. My room had been completely changed with my stuff thrown out. The house felt like something in it had died. The yard was slowly falling apart. My mom laid on the floor, thoroughly drunk, crying out words that did not make sense. My father was on the couch, somehow managing to block out the insane pleads of my mother. I went to my father, begging him to change. He would not look at me. I was so scared of him. I begged him to help my mother, but he seemed to stubbornly keep reading the newspaper. I screamed at him, with tears running down my cheeks. He finally turned his head in my direction, but would not meet eyes. He said there was no one there that he knew. He disowned me. He was ashamed of me. I was thrown out of the family. I said this wasn't fair! I had to go to the temple. It was the only chance of a future for me. There was a moment of awful silence. Then, out of no where, he stood up and slapped me hard across the face. I was too stunned to react. He screamed at me, something I couldn't make out. He smacked me harder, leaving a mark on my face. I was shaking so bad, I could barely stand. He screamed, no words, just pure, horrible sound. It was a scream of disgust, of pure hate, of pure evil. In the background, my cats pitiful mewed in fear and my mom ranted away. He raised his hand again, this time; I knew he would kill me”¦ I woke up panting, my heart racing, and my body shaking just like in the dream. The fear was so intense it nearly drove me crazy. I was itching to get out of my room, to feel breathe and to have some space around me. I grabbed my music player and half ran out into the hall. I took a deep breath and regain some sense. I needed a place to be alone, alone with my music. I thought for a moment and decided to head for the top floor, to a big room with long, tall windows. When I got there, I found a small table to place my player on. I took another deep breath and wiped the sweat off my face. It was a warm night. I started off with slow soft songs in the hopes of quieting my spirit, but my fearful mood lead me to darker songs to the last two darkness songs I knew. I danced them, full of emotion, letting the emotion guide and control my body. Memories consume Like opening the wound I'm picking me apart again You all assume I'm safe here in my room Unless I try to start again Everyone was clueless to my mood, to what was inside of me. Everyone left me, and seemed not what to have anything to do with me. I don't want to be the one The battles always choose 'Cause inside I realize That I'm the one confused I knew my emotions where a mess. I knew I was mentally confused, caused by my fear. I don't know what's worth fighting for Or why I have to scream I don't know why I instigate And say what I don't mean I don't know how I got this way I know it's not alright So I'm breaking the habit I'm breaking the habit Tonight I honestly didn't know why I felt this why. I don't know what brought on these nightmares. I wanted to end them. I want to be ok again. Clutching my cure I tightly lock the door I try to catch my breath again I hurt much more Than anytime before I had no options left again I was alone in my pain. I was silently screaming and yet no one heard me. I could turn to no one.. I'll paint it on the walls 'Cause I'm the one at fault I'll never fight again And this is how it ends My father blamed me. I was always to blame. I could not, would not fight him. I had no right to. This truly was all my fault. The song ended and went on the next, the most darkest, but truest of them. I'm tired of being what you want me to be Feeling so faithless lost under the surface Don't know what you're expecting of me Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow) Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow) I was sick of my father! All he ever tried to do was control everything I thought, felt, and did. I could never meet his expectations. Anything I did on my own, for myself, was wrong in his mind. I've become so numb I can't feel you there Become so tired so much more aware I'm becoming this all I want to do Is be more like me and be less like you My father wore me down. He was constantly telling me what I had done wrong, making me redo it. He turned me into his personal servant, which he treated so poorly, without respect. Can't you see that you're smothering me Holding too tightly afraid to lose control Cause everything that you thought I would be Has fallen apart right in front of you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow) Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow) And every second I waste is more than I can take His control was so complete; it gave me no room to move, to be myself. I had no freedom, no rights. I was treated like a child, when I was clearly much more mature. And I know I may end up failing too But I know You were just like me with someone disappointed in you I could fail at being a Jedi. I could be sent back. I could become my father, who had been abused by his mother, although he seemed unconscious of that. I've become so numb I can't feel you there I'm tired of being what you want me to be I've become so numb I can't feel you there I'm tired of being what you want me to be The emotions I was feeling where overwhelming. My moves of my dance had an eerie flow to them. I hit all the right beats. When the song ended, I was so still; one had to wonder if I was breathing. I waited several seconds after the song had ended to move again. I went over to the window, being utterly silent for a moment before I opened up my bursting heart and sobbed. My cry was the howl that broke the glass silence around me. My heart poured out every held back, bitten back thought and feeling. I would have cried for hours on end. I was badly startled when a hand touched my shoulder. I stopped crying and spun around to look at who was there. Master Mirmo looked at me with caring, compassionate eyes. A second of silence went by as I stood there, tears coursing down my cheeks, unable to get myself to run out of the room. He put the hand around my back and pulled my face his chest. I cried, not quite as hard, on him. My shoulders shook with my racking sobs. He gave me the appropriate amount of time to shed tears and then shushed me until I was quiet. I pulled away from his touch, looking down at the ground and asked how long had he been there. ”œLong enough to see you are in pain”

Her issues will get worse before they heal. I was happily surprised to find out that the teacher I liked came to the meditation class. I heard through from the older Jedi, he was called Master Mirmo. I later heard from the students that he was knight, leaving me confused if he was a knight or master. In fact, I knew nothing about him except from what I could pick up and what I overheard. Some of the students had caught on and were already seated on the floor when he came in. Just seeing him cheered me up and made me feel eager for the lesson. He took a seat with the class and started the lesson. We were taught about the importance of a clear mind. We were taught about how a still mind was very important. He told a short story on how stilling his mind saved him from being detected by a dark Jedi hunting him down. He tied this all to preparation to feeling and using the Force, which got the interest of the class. He knew we were all more than begging to be taught how to feel and access the famous Force, but he reminded us our mind must be in right frame before we could accomplish this feat. We were given a method of how to still and blank out of mind and told to find a place in the room to practice. I chose the far right corner. I leaned back on the cool wall, closed my eyes, and started breathing. I tried to envision a blackboard with nothing on it. I say tried, because memories of various nightmares kept popping up in my mind. I threw each on out of my head, only to find a new one came up. The shield of fear would not allow any peace to enter and my fear of failing at my task was growing. I tried to take a deep breath and gain order within my head, but it was too late. I took another turn at fighting the fear, but I was obviously losing. ”œKaren, open your eyes”

Oh come on, it's not that bad of a story! Here's the next chapter: For the second time since I came to the temple, I woke up to find myself curled up in a small, smelly ball of fear. It took me minutes to remember the vague nightmare I dreamt of before. I lay on my mattress for some before looking at a clock to find out I had another hour before I had to get up. There was no point in trying to sleep for an hour full of fear. I little by little crawled out of my blankets and made my way to the bathroom, which they called a refresher. The hot steamy mist of the shower helped clear my mind and think, but the water could not penetrate my shield of fear. This shield of fear was not a new one. It was created out of a self defense program during the years of abuse. It was far from healthy, for the shield let the internal fear grow and fester, while shielding out anything can could calm or heal. I was unaware that this shield had sprung up and would remain that way. Many times we are hardly aware of what the true source of our anxiety because we fear to look at the dark half of our soul. I made myself get out of my room and walk to the cafeteria for breakfast. I was disappointed with the food I found. It wasn't that the food was bad, or rotten, or cooked wrong, it was just different. I didn't see any cereal; there was no bacon, or orange juice. I never knew if the next bite was going to be a pleasant or nasty surprise. I just wanted something that I could pronounce the name of and knew what it was going to taste like even if I didn't like it. So, once again I was made to take food that I had no idea what was, or really how to eat it, and look for a table. I was still upset and depressed over the night before and felt the pain of loneness greater still. I gathered my courage and picked a table full of mid teen girls busy talking. I went up to them, tray in hands, and shyly asked if they minded me sitting at their table. One girl, I picked up to be the leader, said that was no problem and returned back to the conversation at hand. Well, it was not the warmest of welcomes, but at least I had not been rejected. I sat the edge of the table, distancing myself from the girls. I was unfortunate to find I had picked the table of the popular kids in the school. It was strange to say that even in a Jedi temple, there were three classes of people. Think of society as a flock of sheep. You have the loners, the regular crowds of sheep, and the leaders of the sheep. The leaders of the sheep were people that knew they were popular, knew the game of popularity, and had no trouble taking advantage of the other sheep to gain more power and to get want they wanted. Among the sheep, these were people who either knew they were followers of the new trend and wanted to be led or they didn't know and didn't want to find out. Some of the sheep would but heads together in order to become a leader, but they were fooling themselves into thinking they could outsmart the leaders. Then there were the loners, the outcastes of society, who were either thrown out or chose to be alone for personal reasons. From my experience, the Jedi were mostly made up of loners who found themselves unable to fit in due to their stronger connection to the Force. It didn't matter if these Jedi knew about the Force or not, there was always something about their personality that would not let them follow the lead of the corrupt, so they found themselves stranded, alone, and scared. Apparently, in this temple the leaders of the sheep still existed, along with the despised game of corrupt popularity. I found myself wishing I had picked a deserted table, rather than suffer the boring and pointless conversations of guys, clothing, and gossip of other girls. These girls must have picked up my loner personality, for they did not invite me into their chatter. I made a point to eat my breakfast quickly and get out of there. I still had time to wonder around the temple grounds before heading off to my first class. The event with the girls had not improved my mood, but increased my dislike for human contact. I knew it was stupid and silly to base the reputation of all students on just one table, but depression and pain makes you think in strange patterns of logic. I found my legs had brought me to my first class of the day, which looked to be exercising judging by the fact there were no chairs in the room. In ten minutes, the rest of the small, overweight class had shown up and two minutes after that a different teacher from the rest showed up. I was privately hoping the teacher, who had shown us the stretches and gave us the lecture on Jediism, would teach again. This teacher turned out to be boring with his monotone voice and uninteresting words. The class sleepily went through the stretches and seemed to lack the enthusiasm we had the day before. Maybe, I was not the only one who had a bad night and so far, a bad day. The class seemed to drag on, but maybe I just wanted it to end so badly, my sense of time was off. When the class was done, I headed straight back to my room to hide from all. For some time I stared, emotionlessly into space, with no thoughts running through my head, except for visions of the dream. A small level of panic set in, causing me to feel restless, so I started pacing around my room. I settled down to the chair in front of my computer and spent my time that was meant for lunch, learning how to transfer my music I brought from my home to something that could be played on their strange music player. It was not that difficult to do, but I was still adjusting to their technology. An hour later it was time for my meditation class, one I wasn't so sure on with my moodiness. I could only hope this day got better. This depression was starting to really get to me and my control over myself.

Ok, I'm sorry... It's just I have about 12 chapters written out already and I guess I'm a bit impatient to post them. I will space them out more. But, for those who can not wait, here's another chapter: Lunch was another companionless meal, with this time a bit of loneliness entered my heart. Even if I despise most people, I still have to be around them. I still feel the need, the craving to be accepted, to be loved, to belong. To stand out alone, to be a loner, is a rough, tired path that even a Jedi feels the difficulty. I was tempted to move my tray to a table full of laughing, animated people, but I held back. I did not know anyone of them and I would intrude where I shouldn't. I would have to find the strength within for the right time to make my move. After lunch, I wondered the endless halls to finally locate my next class. From what I had been told, this class would be about general Jediism. This description didn't tell me much, but got my interest all the same. The classroom was similar to the last one, but this time there were no chairs and the floor was matted with some type of semi hard foam. I was starting to get the idea, the temple did not spend much time decorating classrooms, or hinting what the room may be for. The other difference in the room was the size of the class and the people of the class. I'm not sure how I knew this, perhaps my Force sense told me, but I had a strong feeling I was with the newest of the Jedi students. There was something in the way they nervously stood, the confused, unsure looks on their faces, and the vague topics of the conversations being told. I relaxed a few hairs, knowing whatever happened; I could not do worse than them. The teacher, or should I say master, came in and once again the room fell silence, all eyes and senses where on the lone man. He had a very soft voice, a quiet demeanor, and flowing moves. He was middle height, lean, muscular, brown eyes with dark brown hair. There was something about him that made me tense up and wants to relax at the same time. I felt a connection to him, and I knew well it was not love of any sort. He seemed to bring out a strong desire in me to give him my full respect. This was a man that showed intelligence and a grace I sorely lacked. He was a man of character, one I would like to dive deeper into his mind. It was all I could do to remind myself I was not suppose to have that ability, and had to drag my mind off that topic. He invited us to sit down, and only after he started lowering himself to the floor, did the students follow him. This class of students was much unsure of the way things were done and made me feel a bit better about my own insecurity. He started talking about the Jedi way, giving us a taste of the philosophy, the rules, the reasons, and the ideas that centered in the life of a Jedi. He cleared fantasy, myths, and rumors that anyone off the street would have about Jedi. I appreciated him doing this, after spending my time explaining these points to countless people. He gave us warnings and a clear picture of what would come in the future. He mentioned the dark side; bring a sharp pain to my heart. The dark side was a subject I knew all too well, a subject I came here to fight alone. He went on to say how each of us will have to recognize and face down our fears. I was not looking forward to mine, but knew all too well it was coming. He smoothly changed the dark, depressing topic to one of a lighter side: exercise. Part of our training would become physically in shape. I look a quick look around to notice the fact most of us were overweight and probably could run no faster than I could. I had a second of fear of being made to exercise heavily, showing one of my weaknesses, but that was quickly calm when he said we would just do stretches. I could stretch; in fact I liked to stretch. I have a small bit of pride that I am more flexible than most girls and give me a month of twice a day stretching and I can sit down into splits without any pain. He led us through various stretches that included my arms, back, thighs, calves, and shoulders. He encouraged us to remain calm and to blank out our minds as we moved. The class, at the end, seemed to be surer of themselves, less fearful of their surroundings, and seemed closer to each other. I came to the conclusion these sort of classes is what brings such a sensation of total tranquility and unity. I headed back to my room, this time not getting as lost as I had been, for a quick shower. I have always loved being around hot water. The spray on my back felt so good and getting the sweat out of my hair from the exercise made me wake up. The day had started out badly, but seemed to be getting better and steadier as time went on. Another soft chime could be heard from an unseen source, telling me it was time for dinner. Dinner was another lonely meal and I felt the need for friendship even more, but I still was not ready to overcome my shyness. My evening was quickly spent by further exploring the strange computer and retiring to bed early. I had forgotten to clear and calm my mind before I fell asleep. I had forgotten due to the feeling of overconfidence in my good feeling. The day had strengthened the inner part of me, fooling me into thinking I was now immune to the nightmares. A nightmare did occur, ruining my chance for a good sleep, but it was not the same fear filling quality as the last one, but still focused on the terrifying figure of my father had imprinted on my soul.

The story takes place after ep 6, on Yavin 4, at Luke's temple. I've timed it so he has enough students to take on peole like Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin Solo. Luke, according to the books, was very open minded about taking 20 year olds. I know I have some grammar errors, sorry, grammar isn't my strong point. She's not going over to the darkside, but she will struggle with the darkside. She's from Earth, although that will never be said. This is actually a daydream I have spent a few weeks thoroughly working out. Most events that happen in the story are very close to what has happened to me in real life. Yes, I'm scared of shots and that scene with the shot basically happened this year, my first year at college. I'm throwing in Earth terms to show you want it would be like if you were placed in that situation and everything you knew was extremely unknow because their techology is so advance.

thank you. Yes it's about a death sentence. I wrote this for an online short story competition about a crimal's last days in jail before his death.

The meal went quickly and I went back to my room to hide, to be alone and to find peace. I had a computer in my room, helping with the feeling of being far away from anything I once knew. There was no internet, slicing away the idea of communicating to my life, to my friends. The computer was so advance that I spend several hours trying to understand it. It so different from anything I knew how to operate, that it took me a full hour to find a word processor. To make it worse, the keyboard was reorganized so the years of touch typing meant nothing now. It was back to slow and painful on my fingers and wrist, hunt and peck. I decided it would be easier to just handwrite my diary, something I was keen on having for my time here. Several hours later, the lights went out in my room, signaling it was time to go to sleep. This had been explained to me during my tour, but with all the events of the day, I had forgotten. Although I could of stay up and used a glow rod, which turned out to be a big flashlight, I decided it would be best if I got more sleep and got use to the time zone. I took another ten minutes fighting and cursing the computer before I discovered how to turn it off. I settled back down onto my cot. I still feared the nightmare and any other that awaited me in the nights to come. I had to get over this fear. People would question me; try to offer me help, help that I did not want. This was my battle to fight, my war to win. It was my past I must come to terms to. No one could or should help me with this. Besides, it would be showing my weakness, and possibly showing myself to exist of this wonderful place. So, to fight this bout of nightmares, I focused on clearing my mind and letting nothing enter until I fell asleep for a good twelve hours. I woke up to looking at my watch to realize in horror I had missed my first class. I quickly got up, turning around the room, wondering what to do. I grabbed my hairbrush, made my hurricane like hair into a ponytail and looked around again in panic. The knock, a different one from the last, at the door made me jump in guilt. I stared in confusion again at the control panel, before remembering to press the green button. A girl of short stature, short brown hair, with a slim, half developed body stood at my door. Her young appearance made me guess she was around fourteen and her high pitched voice reinforced that guess. Her presence was a blessing. A young teenage would not be sent here to tell me off, but be here to help and comfort me in my current state of panic. She smiled at me and my natural reading ability told me she was of the cheerful, hard to get down type, who had no fear about strangers or older people like me. I asked her when and where was my next class, apologizing several times for oversleeping. ”œErr..you might want to get dressed”

One would think that it would be logical that I would find peace and a peaceful mind at a peaceful building, yet my dreams defy logic. What I dreamed about could hardly be described as a dream, but more of a bloodcurdling nightmare of my past. Imagine a looming, immense figure with the face of total power telling you that where you are, what you are doing, and who you are is wrong to the last degree. Imagine that you are a slave, in the mind, in the legal system and by the values society has placed on this dark man, to a person you forced against your will to call father. Fear, dread, guilt, and shame slam onto your self esteem like the waves of an almighty angry ocean. You protest, you shout, you cry, you fear, and you rage, but there is nothing you can do. You can not deny your identity, but you can not comply with the wishes of this demon. You are trapped, unable to escape the vicious lashes from the words you feel obligated to suffer listening to. If you can understand the fear that a single man can inflict upon a tormented soul, you can understand the nightmare I had. What is worse then the nightmare is the waking up in the small ball of pitiful fear, unable to come to your senses, and have that memory control your thoughts. For the second time that day, I was covered in my own, this time cold, shivering to the bone, sweat, but this time I was alone, thank the Force. I was told to take a nap before dinner, so my body could have a chance to deal with the dead cells of a disease. I felt sick to my stomach, but it hardly had to do with the shot. My still healing spirit brought, yet again, a memory of my past during the nap. There was no simple breathing exercise that could cure my deep fright. There were no simple few words that anyone could say that could bring warmth back into my body. I laid there on my cot, rather than a bed, unable to find the courage and strength to get up. I struggled to gain some sort of dignity, to remind myself my father was worlds away, unable to reach me, and yet his past actions had. I had spent well over two years recovering from the damage the abuse had done to me. I had spent hours learning to recognize the influences and the signs of my father's suggestions and commands had on me. All this healing had done so much good to me, but I still fought, still cried, and still feared the darkness within me. I came to the Jedi, to a wonderful temple, to end this nightmare for once and for all. There was a short, three sharp knock on my door. I quickly pulled my sad self up from the mattress, crossed the room, and tried to figure out how to open the door. There was a panel of three square buttons that I took to be the access to the door. They weren't labeled, but there were red, green, and black. I took the green to mean ”œopen”

On the unforgiving, icy cold concrete of the damp, hopeless cell, I drown endlessly in the darkness. A whirlwind of madly fluttering thoughts ranging from simply sweet to frantically wild clutter my mind, until I want to scream. The sharp pain of self guilt gnaws its way to my heart to destroy what little soul I have left. My body is used, thin, fragile-like as is my sanity. Death is the ultimate punisher. You see in the movies the old man slowly dying in peace, or sometimes, in sadness. You watch, in a strange happiness, as the middle age hero finally breathes his last breath, to die a hero, to die proud, die knowing he made a difference. You watch in the spooky sadness as the mother bravely gives her life up for the chance of a future for her dear child. No one ever witnesses the sweaty, screaming nightmare of true death. No one, but me, has. It has been said death is quick, painless, just a prick of a needle, and all is gone, nothing is felt. What people fail to comprehend is the fear before death. To know your life is going to end, to know there is no tomorrow, to know there is no hope, is death in itself. Sitting, hopelessly sitting, forever thinking, obsessively pondering, mentally running in fear from idea of death, is worse then the actual act. Alone in my one thought, alone in the prison in my mind, with the bars of reality, is worse than torture. I have already arrived at hell. Death will just lock the door of heaven. What crime, what sin, to what have I offended to deserve to suffocate in a room full of air? What mind, what entity, what universe lacked the morals to put me here? Had I known, had I experienced this”¦this agony, would I have been more careful to avoid my mistake, my error. The hardness of the floor reminds me of the hardness of those who placed my tormented soul in this miserable state. The stale air, putrid smell of human sweat mixed with urine, slaps my nose and my senses like the hand of an angry mother. The past replays in my head like a broken, ancient record, haunting me. My mind, to escape the horrendous past, approaches in the future for a fresh breath of peace, only to find the future more terrifying. Finally, to find a moment of rest, I return to the present and the face of death. Sleep is something of a dream. I dream, half conscious, in a cold sweat, for I have lost my appetite for reality. I dream of an innocent meadow, of blue sky, a deep, precious, pure blue sky. I dream of the touch of life, the texture of emotion, the smoothness of calm. My dream flows like the clear water that my presence craves. Even in the tranquility of my dreams, death is with me. There seems to be no escape from death. Death is always with me. I seem to breathe death, consume death in my last meals, feeling its absolute touch more clearly, more in detail, each minute, as am I dragged by the hands of time to death's door. I look at the concrete door, to stare at the vague light of the other side, the side of heaven, mocking me. The door opens and my heart races as my mind for one, spilt second becomes blank in the strange feeling of”¦hope? Had I been forgiven? Had my suffering, desperately crying soul reached the ears of the compassionate? Rough hands pick me up, to guide me in the most violent manner, out of the cage of life. I walk the narrow halls of grey. I walk, slowly, in confusion, unsure of the sanity of reality, not sure what to believe, what to trust as truth. I am placed on the altar of the universe, waiting my sentence. Seconds turn into hours and the hours have turned into minutes. There is no emotion; there is no thought, for there is no time or space. Death cheerfully greets me, for the first time, in person. Death is my dark punisher.

In the past of going to different schools, I've come to notice that during the first few days the schools always seem to be impossibly hard to navigate through. The halls don't seem to make sense, the rooms seem foreign, and the map is less than helpful. Even when I am given a tour of the place, do I still get hopelessly lost among the maze of hallways. What is stranger, but still terribly unfair, is how a week later the whole place makes so much sense and I am completely confused on how I got so lost. This temple was no different. This place was just as grand as the appearance of the outside. The stones were smooth to increase the feeling of peace and calm of the Force. The pillars were tall, round, and mighty like the blade of a lightsaber. The rooms were of different sizes, simple and clean like the mind of a Jedi. The whole place spoke of the meaning of the Jedi. There was an everlasting silence that seemed to be an unspoken agreement among the people. There were species and beings of all ages, but all were respected. The young gave life to the bare walls and the old seeped wisdom into the floors. As one walked, they could feel the vast power and could not help, but to be impressed by the strong impression the place gave. There was no test to be taken. There was no way for them to know I had been a Jedi for eight years. No one thought, no one looked, and they all assumed I knew nothing. They knew of my character, my personality, but they did not know what I knew. I felt surprised, worried, and suspicion. Perhaps it was the way I was taught in school, in college, in all the classes I took, but I thought they would test me with the Force. I though they would ask me to feel the Force, but they never did. During my tour of the temple, which went on for many hours to navigate the place, I was explained the rules, which I already knew like I knew how to breathe, and the classes I would be taking. Most of the classes, like meditation, and the Force, would be a review for me, but I did not confide them in this. This would be my secret, my surprise, my way to be known and to be respected. The tour ended with the medical office. I had to be checked out. I was checked for normal sickness, shot record, and anything else wrong with me. The trouble was, I didn't have any of the shots that most people had when they were three. What was even worse was, I hated shots, more than I hated my father. This hate came from fear, as I learned when I was thirteen. I feared pain, and to cover my fear, I said I hated it. It's not that I don't know how to breathe out pain, to accept my natural body's way of telling me something sharp was entering my skin, it's just I don't like pain in the first place. Why must they always take forever to just poke you painfully with something sharp? Is it because they don't want to hurt you and they have to go through a mental process? Or, is it because they just want to test my ability to not show fear? If this was a test, I barely missed the passing mark. Sticky, fear smelling sweat, slowly glided down my forehead, soaked my ponytail, made my hands wet, and just made the whole experience worse. My breathing quickened, my body was slightly shaking, and I knew I looked paler than a ghost. I couldn't control this fear. I tried to breathe, I seriously tried to slowly breathe in all my fear and let it go on the way out. I tried to distract my mind, become conscious of my body actions, and strive for Jedi calm, but I knew all I was doing was trying, not doing. The needle approached me and I jerked back. I spent a full thirty second scolding myself in the sternest way, bullying myself into staying still. The healer, put a hand on my arm, told me to relax, like that was ever going to happen, and pressed the tip of the thin metal rod into my arm before my thoughts could continue. My brain stopped everything as it screamed bloodily hell that there was needle in my arm. I was counting nano seconds as the fluid left the small contain and was pushed into my body. Then, after a lifetime of pure terrifying torture it was done. It seemed that I had spent all my energy in the reaction of all of this. My body slumped on me, refusing to move, my mind just wishing this never happen and more sweat appear. The healer, having very much noted all this, told me it wasn't that bad. I was fairly close to cursing her out at this point, but anger did not belong here or should have been felt. Rather than get angry at myself to ”œfreaking”

I stared up. I was staring at a huge building, well more like temple. In fact, I was actually staring at the Jedi temple. it was big, bigger than big. My experiences in the dorms, in my home and the houses of friends taught me to never to look up and expect to see more. Rooms were always small. Houses were rarely taller than trees. I felt so small, so little, so unimportant, so new. I had been chosen to be here. I had been through so much to be here. I have been through so much pain, fear, anger, work to be here and yet that building suddenly made me want to go back to my simple home and life. There was no backing out now. I could only go forward. A woman, a tall woman who held herself straight with no nonsense, the presence of the Jedi I always dreamed of. The sight of her made me straighten up, trying to get rid of any evidence that show my nervousness. I was nervous alright, if not ready to run back to the ship. My hands were sweaty, making it hard to hold onto my luggage. My legs felt a bit weak with my stomach have decided never to eat again. The heat of the tropical forest did not help my face look anywhere near calm. I hated this. I could not control myself. I was showing, unwilling, all my weakness and I had only taken a few steps. If the sight of just one Jedi could do all that, how could I survive a class of 20? The woman bowed to her waist, straighten up and looked at me. I paused in all thoughts, in all emotions, not sure what to do. Yes, the Jedi way was to bow back, but I had never been raised to do so, and even at the risk of appearing rude, I was too uncomfortable to bow back. I could not uncling to my old manners and ideas of the world to fully accept the Jedi way. I wondered how much of these little cultural problems would they, the Jedi, ignore before I was told off. The woman, to my relief, showed no sign of being offended, perhaps I was not the first to failed to bow back? She welcomed me and told me to follow her. We went into the temple, which brought on a rush of confusion and fear. Once I entered this place, it felt like I was now trapped here. There was no way of returning to a life I once knew. I would have to deal with the ever present and truly let go of the past....perhaps that is why I was sent here. Maybe this place would be my last stop for healing the damage of too many years of abuse did to me. The Jedi, of course, were completely unaware of my past. They knew, on paper I had been at college. I lived with my parents. I was 21 years old. I had no idea what the age limit was, but I was willing to bet money I was one of the oldest apprentices there. What the Jedi didn't know was my education in the Jedi way. I had been to sites, I was managing a site. I had 8 years of practice with the Force and over a year of serious, deep study in the way of the Jedi path. I hadn't told them because I wanted to start new. I wanted to see what my crazy training had skipped, what lessons had I not been exposed to, what exercises had I not tried. I wanted to start slow, to learn the right way, and to eventually show my secret and only then advance to my proper level. I knew this would test my will, my patience and my endurance to go through this plan. I knew I would have to hold back and restrain my skill at the Force. That would be hard to do. It meant I could not touch the Force or use it for any reason. I would have to refine my skill at feeling and controlling at little as the Force as I could. This would not be an easy task. As I went through the doors of the temple, as these thoughts enter and left my brain, I knew I had already become someone else. Who that was, was left unclear, for the future was hard to read at the best. The Force rarely told you want you wanted to know, in a way you could understand, at the time you wanted to know.