Sacrifices

On The Run

          Rushing out of the entrance, I nearly collapse over my own feet. My knuckles bruise quickly in the sudden rain, and even though the water hurts like bullets I keep on going. There's a little blood that keeps spiraling down my leg, the gash burning in the harsh weather. Not so far away from me I can still hear slurred voices, forcing me to go faster.

"Get back here!"

      Slipping around the slimy street, my legs trip over a fallen can. Involuntarily a yelp slips from my lips, my arms curling around the wound. My fingers trace the outside of the cuts, and I can't stop the throbbing. Get back up. You can't stop running. Hobbling quickly down the streets, my head is swirling out of control. Everything seems so fragmented and broken. And suddenly I hear it. 

Why are you running, little one?

        My face furls into a frown. The voice was soft spoken, like a woman was trying to speak through a shard of glass. I try to hear for it's presence again, only to be responded by the quick patter of my own feet and the ones of  the angered men after me. The beat of my heart thumps weakly, sending strange pulses to roll over my body. 

I remember you.

         Crashing into the wall of an alley, I crouch on to the floor of the ground in startled confusion.  Holding on to my breath, I wait until the drunken men stumble far away from my position. Pressing my fingers on my temples, my throat closes up in discomfort. I definitely heard the voice in my head, and it certainly wasn't my own. Yet it was so...familiar. A part of my rattled emotions was calmed by it...as if I knew the person for a lifetime. I choked out an answer, batting raindrops from my eyelashes. 

"I don't know who you are...or what my purpose is. Please help me." 

              I am once again greeted by silence and more frustration. Reeling my head back so I can lean on the darkened bricks of the alley, I let myself do something I hadn't for years--

Cry. 

        My body curls around in a ball, my arms shaking with my no longer strong appearance. I can't stop the feelings that make me feel so weak, and I welcome the rain and tears with open arms. Anakin...he would tell me what to do. He would hold me and tell me everything would be alright. 

        The hardest thing throughout that day was not the running, or the fighting. It wasn't even the fact that my feelings and emotions didn't want to align to what I desperately  tried to force them to be. I had no where to go. I had no where to look to. 

I have no one to guide me.