The Hidden Truth

The reaction

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 He was also quiet, withdrawn, and my guess was he was in the past, his past.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, 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 pain, 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. H 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 reflex 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 hold my hand, telling me something about holding on.