Anakin turning point thingy
I have no reason for writing a well... paragraph... like this but I did anyway. Its about Anakins thoughts in Star Wars III when he has screamed 'No' after finding out he killed Padme. Maybe I should put it on fanfiction net? please comment :p
“This isn’t you Anakin.”
I screamed. A scream as deadly as the sharpest dart, a scream like a silent killer. I felt it in my head, I felt her dieing, I felt that it was all because of me. I felt that I had failed in my cause, and had nothing, nobody to turn to, having killed the one that I held most precious. Her amber eyes, her dark brown hair, her single curl coming out and weaving through her headdress, it all came back to me as quickly as my fit of anger came and left. I looked at myself and saw no person, I saw no soul, I only saw a machine made of plastic. Obi-Wan had been right, but there was no turning back now, there was no need to, it was all because of destiny, and I hated that knowledge. I had been right in turning, for there was no future left for the Jedi, and only in my passion of hate had I been most powerful. But a tiny voice creeps to me and tells me it was this that killed Padmé, my love. Yet I turn to the Sith Lord, look him in the eyes and proclaim myself his apprentice, with more conviction then I ever held before. And as I look at myself in the mirror, I see no soul, I see a man made of plastic, a machine, and a killer.
“This isn’t you Anakin.”
I screamed. A scream as deadly as the sharpest dart, a scream like a silent killer. I felt it in my head, I felt her dieing, I felt that it was all because of me. I felt that I had failed in my cause, and had nothing, nobody to turn to, having killed the one that I held most precious. Her amber eyes, her dark brown hair, her single curl coming out and weaving through her headdress, it all came back to me as quickly as my fit of anger came and left. I looked at myself and saw no person, I saw no soul, I only saw a machine made of plastic. Obi-Wan had been right, but there was no turning back now, there was no need to, it was all because of destiny, and I hated that knowledge. I had been right in turning, for there was no future left for the Jedi, and only in my passion of hate had I been most powerful. But a tiny voice creeps to me and tells me it was this that killed Padmé, my love. Yet I turn to the Sith Lord, look him in the eyes and proclaim myself his apprentice, with more conviction then I ever held before. And as I look at myself in the mirror, I see no soul, I see a man made of plastic, a machine, and a killer.