Healing Hearts

Last night had only been a temporary relief. The pain, the anger, and the fear all came back by the end of her first class. The math class was once again a nightmare, but worse than ever before since the teacher looked at her hopefully for a volunteered answer. She had no answers this time and did not feel like speaking out again. After class, the students made fun of her one day out of character. They questioned Sarafire about her whereabouts and tried to get her to confirm a rumor she was in trouble with Master Yoda. She kept her mouth shut and refused to answer any questions. She pushed her way through the gathering students and went on with her day.

What really broke her heart was she had seen this coming. She knew the peace wouldn’t last more than a day. It was too crazy to think of such a thing. She knew the day spent in a garden, as pleasant as it was, was a huge mistake that she was going to regret later. The kids never stopped teasing her and anything she did out of her normal pattern was just more ammo to hurdle at her. Sarafire reflected that it might not be so bad to fail and be thrown out. At least she wouldn’t have to put up with this terror anymore.

She skipped dinner, not hunger because of the roughness of the day and went straight to her room. Her stress levels were high as was her negative emotions. She tore at the long bandage with one hand, desperate to remove it.

She had to cut again. Her mind would not allow any other thought than that. Her body craved for it. She was going to explode if she did not find a way to release the wind whirl of emotions. She growled at the tightly bound cloth, pulling, tugging, and trying to tear it. She unfortunately didn’t have anything to cut it so she kept on. Finally, she gave up and glared angrily at her arm. It was then it dawned on her. Use the Force. She closed her eyes and gathered what energy she could gather and focused its power on the bandage. There was a slight tug to feel as the end of the cloth was pulled out. That was enough for her. She unwound the rest with her right hand and discarded the roll half way across the room, never wishing to see it again.

She picked up the razor she had earlier located and put it near her arm. Her hand, then arms, and then whole body began to shake. There was an argument going in her head. She knew it was wrong to cut, but she also knew she had to. This was an addiction she couldn’t, wouldn’t stop. It was more than just letting the pain out that drove her to this sin. It was the addiction of relief she would feel as the pain sliced up her nerves to her brain. It was that she could control herself in a way the Jedi hadn’t forced her to know and practice and believe in.

The blade started to cut through her skin. She ignored the loud cries of her mind telling her to drop the blade and yelp in pain. Instead, she pressed her lips together and kept cutting. Her body cringed and begged her to stop. She wouldn’t. It was the feeling, the wonderful relief to know she was truly alive. Sarafire would have kept cutting a long wound except that there was a knock at the door.

She dropped the blade and cursed out loud. She knew exactly who it was and she knew she was in trouble. She looked around the room for the bandage, but realized she could not hold the Grand Master long enough to get the bandage on and still be able to explain herself. Yet, she didn’t like to show up at the door with a fresh, bleeding cut. Somehow, all the lovely relief she was enjoying had left her and was replaced with panic and anger. It was so unfair, so seemingly planned for the master to show up just as she had started her sin. It was almost like he knew and wanted to get her into trouble.

There was another, louder knock. The sound was sharp and demanding. She had to open the door. There was no excuse, no apology, or lie that could get her out of this. She shoved the razor back in its hiding spot and kicked the bandage underneath the bed. She half ran the short distance to the door and opened it.

“Hello Sarafire.”

She didn’t answer back. She was too busy worrying about her arm and torn between trying to hide it and coming out to confess what she had done and receive her punishment.

“Shy are you?”

She still couldn’t say anything. Her emotions started to boil over and the room began to shake again. Her body, especially her hand shook ever so little, indicating how much she feared the situation in. The master took a step forward and held her left hand. Tears trickled down her face. The master pulled out a comn link. She knew what that meant and she silently cried harder. It was the end.

“Yes, Master Yoda here. A med pack I need. Student’s hall, room forty six.”

He put away the comn link back into his belt and led a crying Sarafire to her bed. There, she broke into loud, sad sobs where she cried her heart out. She was so sorry and so scared. It was wrong. What she had done was totally wrong and she was wrong. She couldn’t help it. She was a mess and all the trust and help the little Jedi had put into her was for nothing. Guilt swamped her. She hated herself. She had done nothing for him when he had done all and was still doing more. She didn’t deserve this. She cried and cried until there was another knock. Master Yoda had been sitting her with, not saying or doing anything, and got up to answer the door. He opened it and Sarafire saw through blurry, wet eyes a medic there with a med pack in hand. The small, green Jedi took the med pack.

“That is all. Thank you.”

“Are you sure Master Yoda? She doesn’t look alright to me. Maybe she should-”

“That is all Master Dant.”

There was something in Master Yoda’s voice that made it clear the medics were to keep this quiet. The medic bowed and left. Yoda closed the door and came back to the bed. Sarafire’s sobs had subsided to hiccups and a runny nose. The master pulled out a tissue and gave it to her. She loudly blew her nose and got up from the bed to throw it away. When she came back to the bed she was calmer, but not happy.

“I-I’m sorry.”

The master opened the med pack and turned it towards her.

“Clean and bandage your cut you will.”

She silently did this. It stung to touch the wound, but she didn’t flinch. She deserved this pain. She had trouble putting on the bandage with one hand, but she managed and looked at the master, wondering what next would happen.

“Tell me your day.”

She hoarsely told him of the teasing, the kids, the classes, and the general pain and torture of the day. She told him about how she was dying to cut herself and how she started to feel relief. He nodded every so often, but did not comment until she had finished her tale.

“Then why go to class?”

She stared at him for the millionth time, not believing what he was asking.

“Because I have to.”

“Have to?”

“I’ll get into trouble.”

“But trouble you’re already in.”

“I’ll get in more trouble.”

“Matters does it? “

She went silent, thinking about what he had said. He was right about the trouble part. She was in a lot of trouble anyhow. How much more could she get into?

“If I didn’t go to class, then what would I do?”

“Stay with me?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“If you don’t like your classes and pain they cause, then don’t go. Come to me. Yoda will teach you.”

“It will be like private classes? It will be more of yesterday?”

“Yes.”

She nearly forgot her tears and pain. The thought was amazing. It was unbelievable. She was a no one, a person who was picked on or ignored by all. Yet, here was the most important person in the order, paying attention to her and offering her something he rarely gave out at all.

“Under one condition though.”

Her hope faded slightly.

“That you do not cut and you give me your razor. If upset like that, come to me.”

She swallowed. That was asking a lot. She wasn’t sure she could do this.

“Break the addiction we will.”

She did not answer back, but walked over to her bookshelf and lifted a book to reveal the razor. She picked up the razor and handed it to him. He put it in his belt.

“Be alone you shouldn’t. Come, you will sleep with me. Gather your stuff.”

He waited for her to get some clothes for the night, her blanket, pillow, and stuffed animal. She blushed as he studied her stuffed animal.

“I’ve had it forever and it helps me sleep.”

He nodded and said nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief. Other people would have told her she was too old for such things. The master got up from the bed and took her and her stuff to his quarters.