**Entire story is being editted so if a chapter changes this is why. I will put whether or not a section has been editted at the beginning of each. Reviewers are luved! :)**

~Editted~

Our destiny can be examined, but it cannot be justified or totally explained. We are simply here. ~Iris Murdoch

A hiss of fury shot through the darkness. "You are mad," a voice said.

"Perhaps, but sometimes what seems like madness is the best way to get things done," another voice spoke.

"To bring the Shredder back will take enough power on its own, but to restore the ancient peace will take more," a third voice mused.

"Do you forget where the source of ancient peace comes from?" the second voice spoke again.

"The jewels, but they have been lost for centuries. How do you expect to find them?" The third voice sounded doubtful.

"Technology is much more than it was, to track the jewels by the waves of power that rolls off of them should be simpler than you think," the second voice replied.

"I still believe this is all madness," the first voice spat.

"Believe what you will; majority is against you old comrade," the second voice said smoothly.

"The Shredder is the one who caused the ancient peace to fall in the first place. His rebellion was the destruction of our congress and himself. His evil caused our flaw," a fourth voice said. "Shall we trust him once more?"

"We must," the second said seriously, "or no power shall come at all."

"He shall rebel again," the fourth replied, "a greedy heart never dies."

"The Shredder shall only stay long enough to restore our congress, then the rebelling will be ours," the second argued.

"His power is great, and we have none without the jewels. The Shredder knows that," the fourth voice stayed steady, but a heavy sense of doubt sank into the air.

"This plan is mine!" The second voice boomed, shaking the structure around them. "Whoever objects may leave and never come back! Do you dare rebel? Do you dare stoop to the level of the Shredder?"

"We are not of or with him," a fifth voice said softly. "We do not rebel, but do think about your plan before it is carried out. If the first step is to bring the Shredder back, we may never be able to change our decision."

"I have meditated on this plan," the second voice said with anger. "It is flawless!"

"Then go ahead," the fifth voice replied, "but during this plan, we only stay for the good."

"You were never truly faithful to the face of ancient peace," the second voice hissed, "With this power we may rule the world and repair its wounds."

"Yes, but we shall never be able to repair mankind. They have become selfish and ignorant," the fifth voice said with sadness.

"That is because our power has long since been demolished," the second voice shot back.

"Then, as I said, do as you must," the fifth voice replied calmly.

"I will," the second voice growled. "First step, to restore the Shredder."

Children are easily imprinted on, scarred or inspired by people or events. It shapes their destiny, hope and even their personalities. And most of the time, one imprint can lead to larger ones. Sometimes, it can be shared between two people. Those are the biggest imprints of all. People live off their imprints, and whether we know it or not, it also shapes our personality. Things that happened to us as a child may cause us to be more sensitive toward things, more tolerant towards other things, and perhaps even our cravings and likes/dislikes are shaped by our imprints. It shapes our fears and even our life. The choices and choices that are made for us shape us as beings.

An eight year old girl with tossled brown hair and dark green eyes had been imprinted on by fire. She lived a lonely and reserved life on the top floor of the New York City orphanage. She had lived; her parents did not.

Fire filled her heart, eyes, mind and memory. As humans, we search for a source of our troubles. We blame. That's what this girl, Cally, did. She blamed herself. No one else could be blamed. Cally lived a separated life. She detached herself from the others, came late or not at all for meals and somehow always avoided adoption interviews. As for school, the nuns taught her. Cally enjoyed learning. She excelled within book-smarts but still remained mentally unstable. She would have breakdowns in the dead of night to where one would think they were hearing an orphaned ghost crying out for the life that never was.

If Cally was not like this, she would be the most wonderful child one could imagine. Aren't a lot of children like that? If only they didn't do this or that they would be a perfect child. But Cally would be a special child that could live in every human's heart even if they never met her. Cally was smart yes, but the level of book-smarts tends to cancel out our common sense level. If one has an extremely high level of book-smarts, they tend to lack in common sense and vice versa.

Cally was also very insightful, she liked the deeper meaning of life which is uncommon for someone her age, but Cally had been through a lot. What Cally went through is too much for most, even the most mentally stable. Her mental maturity was higher than most eight year olds because of her circumstances. Cally loved natural beauty with both the land and people; and she didn't particularly like makeup like most girls her age began to look towards it. Neither did she like judgment; the way she saw it, people are either good or make mistakes that lead to more.

Unfortunately, none of these characteristics stuck out to anyone around her. All you could see was a broken child. Just because Cally was more mentally mature than most her age didn't mean that she wouldn't let her messed up life get to her. That was her issue. Why didn't her grandparents take her? An aunt? An uncle? Anyone? But no. She was left alone to be tossed into the world with no one to parent her to it. That's the way Cally saw it. She was unwanted and alone. A very hypocritical statement since she disliked judgment because she judged the world for leaving her to her own. The nuns were required to make her adoptable, she didn't see anything done out of love.

The nuns would take her to different psychologists each week. It seemed that each one was further and further away that the last. All they wanted was her to be adopted but there were no takers. So they tried to break through her damage with psychologists but it only hardened it. All Cally needed to break through her damage was love and it was never given to her. The only psychologist that made a positive difference was the one that said, "Maybe having a friend will help the child."

Cally had never heard the word before except in her spelling lessons and books. But she always thought it was an imaginary thing like the kind of love in teen romance movies. From what Cally knew it was someone that you played with or told secrets to, but Cally had no secrets and she didn't like to play. It was another imprint on her. She didn't like to play because the one time the nuns convinced her to try just to see if it would help, the other children just looked at her stupidly when she walked up and ran off to play without her. One little girl with two long pigtails tried to play with her, but her older sister dragged her away whispering the words, "The freak girl."

Lying awake in the dead of night is what she began to do thinking of what a friend really was. Did you have to play with them? Maybe you could just talk to them. Cally wanted someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't write everything you said down.

One night, Cally grew bored with simply lying in her bed and got up, leaving her unshared room. She went on to venture down the hall. When people venture, their minds are more open, they notice things they normally wouldn't have. It's mostly because we're not really paying attention to where we're going but more to our surroundings. We're not rushed or looking for anything particular. Cally noticed a solid black door at the end of a hall way. Approaching it, she greeted the door with a long stare. The handle was a pull which meant the other side was push. It was cold and rough. She ran her hand down the surface and caught the handle.

We doubt destiny sometimes. We don't know its destiny but we consider what may happen if we make that choice but we aren't open minded optimistically most of the time when we consider this. Cally thought about it and came to conclude that if she were caught wandering, she would be punished. So she doubted destiny and released the handle.

But destiny doesn't let us go that easily. If it truly is destiny, something pushes us towards it. For Cally, it was a loud slam somewhere down the hall that made her jerk open the door and run into where ever in there was. We don't think when destiny pushes, we just do. Cally wasn't thinking either. She was breathing heavily and her heart was still pounding with the adrenaline that had just instantly infested her body.

Cally knew she couldn't be found wandering at night. She would get in trouble. That was another imprint. The nuns whipped for punishment. They used scare-tactic to get obedience and yet they spoke of a gentle and loving God. In one form or another most forms of authority are hypocritical. Then again, almost all people are. I haven't met one that hasn't proven themselves hypocritical. It doesn't have to be in major things but maybe just in a small opinion or such.

Unsure what to do, not even any ideas to flip through, Cally leaned against the wall. It was pitch black and she could see nothing, but she wasn't afraid. Cally actually found the darkness relaxing. Perhaps it was because she could see nothing, it brought nothing to mind, it was emptiness and after Cally's life so far, emptiness was better. Something jutted into her back and as she straightened up to see-or feel- what it was, it clicked and a weak light flickered on. A harshly built staircase was revealed in the dim light. It was cement but it was old. The edges were cracked and some were missing pieces out of it. Cally scrunched her bare toes in and out as she considered her options.

Destiny is a friend of curiosity. And curiosity is the single reason that Cally walked up those steps. What would lie at the top? Her imagination that rarely showed began to open possibilities. Perhaps another world where she lived with her parents in that small apartment downtown. It had rather worn and shabby, but Cally had loved it. At least her parents had been there and maybe they still were, just in a different form. She shuddered at the thought.

The stairs stopped where another door stood. Cally stared dumbly at it for a bit, wondering whether she should open it or not. Would she like the new world? Her mind still sat on that. But then a voice with no source entered her mind. You've come so far, why stop now? Cally agreed with the voice. If she ended where there was no end there was no point to her effort. So Cally swung open the door and breathed in a harsh scent that flooded her nose.

Within an instant, the sounds of car horns and people on the streets surrounded her. The sounds were combined as one loud roar. You could distinguish each one if you tried but if you didn't it was just one sound, the sound of the city. It left Cally within awe. Even though the moon shown on the world it was not needed in this brightly lit place. Street lamps were lit, store signs, advertisement light ups, billboards, even the cars had their headlights on. She had seen New York City within the day but it was almost as if it went through a transformation during the dusk to be this at night.

Cally took the choice to stay here. She liked it and figured that it would be easier to avoid getting caught by staying up here. Then Cally noticed a figure slumped over to the side of the roof of the orphanage. She had never introduced herself. Never had to. Perhaps this was a friend, so she stepped closer.

City lights revealed a rounded back as Cally got closer. It shocked her; no one had a back that round. When we see something different in the dark we become frightened, but Cally didn't fear much anymore. What was there for her to fear? The figure stood up and appeared like they were about to make their escape down the building's fire escape ladders.

"Wait." The words spilled boldly out. Cally had the sudden want to talk to this person. It made no sense to her but she knew what she felt. They straightened up, as though to know that someone was there frightened them. Cally spoke another command. "Don't go."

"Why?" The voice came out strained with fear. Cally wondered what this person was so scared of. They didn't look any taller than any other children at the orphanage so she assumed they were a child like her.

"Why would you?" Cally asked. Why would they have to go? They were here why did they have to leave?

"I have to," The child replied. Cally frowned; she figured they had to but why?

So she proceeded to ask. "Why?"

"I ca-can't be caught." Caught? Cally couldn't be caught either but she was just another kid, what was she going to do?

"You've already been caught." Cally was indignant.

The child turned to face her. "You can't tell anyone!"

Cally released a gasp of awe. Before her stood a giant turtle, it was the height of a child and had a child's expression of fear on his face. He stood on two legs and had three fingered hands with opposable thumbs. His hands clenched and unclenched as he stared at her. He wore a red mask that stretched from the top of his nose and pulled over his head so that only his eyes was the only thing that showed above his nose. It didn't frighten her like it would most but simply sparked curiosity.

The boy made a face a mix of terror and disgust. "My master told me I wouldn't be accepted, he was right." His voice was filled with contempt for Cally and he turned to leave.

"Wait! It's not that. You just surprised me, that's all." Cally reached out a hand, as though it would help stop the boy. She slowly lowered her hand. "No one will accept me either." She bit her bottom lip.

The boy turned back around to face her. "Why not?" His curiosity was suddenly peaked as well. Why would the world not accept a completely ordinary girl?

Cally opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. She hadn't really thought about that. "I'm not sure. No one will talk to me and they call me a freak. Am I ugly?"

Bashful, the boy shook his head quickly. "Don't you have any siblings?" Unlike friends, siblings usually accepted each other no matter what. He knew that better than anyone.

Cally shook her head. "I'm on my own. I want a friend but I don't know how."

"To make a friend?" He moved closer, messaging he was more at ease than he had been. What was wrong with this girl? She acted like the world treated her like it would him but she was completely normal. Was the world more corrupt than he had been told?

"You know?" Cally smiled. Her quest had been met and maybe this boy despite what he was could be a better friend than anyone she had ever met could be.

"How to make a friend?"

Cally shook her head. "What a friend is." If this boy knew how to make a friend maybe he could tell her what was wrong with her, why others wouldn't accept her.

"You don't know?"

"Would you tell me?"

The boy smiled. "No." He knew what he was doing. He had always wanted a friend from the surface. Maybe this girl could prove to him that the world wasn't all bad that there was some good in it. The boy had always been told that coming up here was pure danger but maybe she wasn't.

Cally looked down at the hard roof, disappointed. Why couldn't he show her? Did he see what was wrong with her too? Was it really that bad? Most people tend to judge themselves harsher than anyone. We see our faults before we see our perfections. But Cally didn't know what her fault was and figured she had no perfections.

Then he spoke again, "I'll show you."

Cally looked up. "How?" How do you show someone what a friend was? Was it like those examples the nuns used during lessons to show her how something worked or to help things make more sense?

"I'll be yours." Three words that rushed through Cally like a dream. What she had been purposefully looking for she accidently found. She got that feeling that we get when we finally find what we're looking for. Not only do we get that feeling that a big weight is off our shoulders but we feel more free for just that one moment and we get the feeling of satisfaction.

Destiny smiled at its foundation. It knew this was going to be good. One looked for a piece of satiability in her life and the other searched for a piece of good in the world. It was like two colors that complimented each other perfectly that make others stop and look in wonder thinking why can't I do something like that? And this was truly beautiful.