Such Kylo Trash

Human Being

Suffocating. Such a small piece amongst so many others. Life swirled around you. Boots pattering, stomping by your door. Never entering. You closed your eyes, all out of tears. Your cheeks were sticky, uncomfortable, and your eyes were raw from all the crying you had done. You continued to lie in the middle of your bed, listening. TIE fighters zooming past on various missions. Parts of the Finalizer moving. Everything buzzing like a clock, tick-tick-ticking. You used all sounds to count the time that elapsed. After listening to life go on without you for what seemed like hours, you pushed yourself up.

It took you very little time to smooth out your uniform, to wipe away all traces that you had cried. You exited your quarters, and put on a mask of mindless obedience. It was so easy. All you had to do was remember your training. You were no one. Just a tool. Expendable. There to serve Supreme Leader and further the First Order's missions. You sank into the chair before your workstation and set about to doing your work.

Lines of data. So much information. You edited things here and there. Composed reports. Your job could be done by anyone aboard the Star Destroyer. If you made a simple mistake, it could be remedied with ease.

Which meant that if your father had failed a mission that so displeased the Supreme Leader, it had been more than a simple failure. Something that would set back the First Order; something that may have strengthened the Resistance. All were trained to readily die for the First Order. It was likely your father would have willingly put his life on the line. Yet Supreme Leader Snoke wanted to show him the extent of his failure. Allowing him to live to see the repercussions was not good enough. Kylo Ren had told you: you were Commander (L/n)'s weakness. And so you had been used against him. Just a small piece. It did not matter if you broke—life would go on.

.

.

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Officer Keln intercepted you in one of the empty corridors as you headed back to your quarters at the end of the day. His hand shot out, snatching your upper arm before he whipped you against the wall. You banged against it with a light grunt. Your bottom lip split upon impact. You hardly cared. You turned, keeping your eyes open as a fist connected with your jaw. You stumbled to the side, however did not lose your footing. Keln's next blow was a knee to your gut. You collapsed to your knees, your hands on the ground the next moment. You coughed up a minute amount of bile, which landed on the floor.

He was waiting to strike you again, waiting until you stood. Time would go on even if you did not rise immediately, and he would be there. Waiting. You rose, staring at him defiantly. Keln snarled, backhanding you. You did not move to defend yourself nor to strike back. It would be pointless. He would keep coming at you. It was better to allow him to beat you, to get out his rage. Because he seemed to be the only other officer aboard the vessel to feel his mortality as you did. To feel anything other than what you were all told to feel. Pure, raw emotion.

His hand pressed against your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck. You welcomed the pressure. It was something tangible. All the rage and frustration, all the hurt was melting away as your air supply was cut off. Officer Keln pushed more tightly against you. Squeezing so hard that your vision grayed and blurred at the edges. Red was popping each time you blinked.

It was when his touch relented that you felt true pain. An aching realization that you had been waiting to die. An excuse to escape—a curiosity to see if everything would continue normally without you there.

"Don't just stand here taking it," he hissed out, as though pleading with you to strike him. "You lived and he didn't—and you don't fucking care! It pisses me off! How could you not care? He died, and... You lived! You lived, and you just want to fucking die, but you—!" Keln's fist met your face, and you tasted blood. "You selfish little bitch!"