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DaughterPeople fear me. Cringe at the thought of me getting them. If I still had emotions, I'd be proud of myself. Pleased to know my name brings fear to all. I am a man of no emotions.
So why am I so sad whenever I have no job, no one to chase, no one to deliver?
That answer is obvious to me. Its about Cecilia.
Most people would think Cecilia is some lover I had, or a partner I was close to. But they don't come close to the truth. In fact, my enemies would kill to learn the truth about it.
That Cecilia is my daughter.
Well, clone-daughter. I cloned myself into an infant female approximatly seventeen cycles ago.
I suppose I wanted someone to continue the Fett legacy. Another Fett for the galaxy to fear. But why a girl? I don't know myself. Perhaps because I'm not sexist like my father Jango was.
But I did it. And when I saw her for the first time a couple days later.... Emotions I thought I had gotten rid of had surfaced in an instant. Love, joy, happiness, being proud....
And sadness. And ang
FatherSpace. A view I never tire of as I look out of the window in my room.
Sighing, I stare at my hands. Why? Why was it me chosen to look like this hideous beast? But I know why. Everytime i think of him, I burn up inside. Anger swells up within me and I scream, maybe bang my tail. Augh, I feel the anger right now. I think I will do that.
Ahhh, that feels better, though I still feel angry. And sad. And hurt. The pain will never leave me.
Ugh, SOMEones banging on the door telling me to shut up already. Bah, I'll just open the door and knock on her head telling me to leave me alone damnit.
Hah, I love doing that. I think she got the point that I want to be left alone right now.
Alone.... I've been alone since the time I was very little. He would always abandon me for days at a time. But I loved him then. I'd glomp him upon his returns. Smile, laugh, express my love. And I think he loved me back. For a while.
But then HE arrived in our home. I was told to stay away from him. But then I got ma
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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