Title: Black, White, Grey and Red Author: Briannakin Timeframe: Between LOTF and FOTJ Characters: Ben, Luke with appearances from H/L, Kam, Tionne and others Notes: Written for the 2013 Dear Diary Challenge. Originally this was going to be a lot lighter than what it turned into, but I don't believe the EU shows realistic mental reactions to horrific events. Don't fret, there will be some snark. Each entry will start with a quote, some from me, some from other people. “When you're not okay, you will do anything to convince the world you are, and the ‘world’ includes yourself.” Data-pad: On. Entry 1 Aunt Leia told me to start a ‘journal.’ She told me it would help me ‘figure out stuff.’ I honestly don’t know what I am supposed to figure out though. Everything seems pretty black and white to me: 1. A year ago a war started. It was originally between the Five Worlds of Corellia and the Galactic Alliances. 2. My cousin, Jacen, helped start said war and by the end of it was conducting it singlehandedly for his own gain. 3. I killed people in this war. 4. Four months ago my mother was killed. 5. Jacen killed my mother. 6. Jacen turned into Darth Caedus. 7. A week ago, my other cousin, Jaina, killed Caedus. 8. A week ago, the war ended. 9. Today we burned Caedus’ body. The adults in my life worry about me. I honestly don’t know why. Whenever they ask me, “How are you?” I reply that I’m fine. As long as they think I’m fine and I think I’m fine, then I will be fine. I think they were just unnerved by the fact that I was the only person that didn’t cry at Jacen’s/Darth Caedus’ funeral pyre. Why should I have cried? The guy killed my mother, sacrificed my innocence, tortured me both physically and mentally, and turned me into a murderer. I don’t care that he’s now damned for eternity. I just don’t give a shavit anymore. I hear my aunt talking to my dad now. I know it’s not right to eavesdrop, but it’s hard not to. My aunt just told my dad that I should see a psychiatrist and my dad agreed with her. I know they mean well, but I don’t need some shrink. I am not some broken thing that needs ‘fixing.’ Frankly, I’m tired of being asked “How are you?” It’s like they want me to break down and cry into their arms or something. Maybe I am FINE. Is that so hard to comprehend? What’s not fine is the current state of the government. Who in the galaxy thought it would be a good idea to let Daala be Chief of State? I have a bad feeling about her. I think my dad and aunt are the ones that need their heads checked by a shrink. Entry Saved Data-pad: Off.