I slowly turned the key and opened the door to my dorm. It was dark, quiet, and empty; just the way I liked it, but why am I not happy? Just about every other Friday it was like this. The girls would go out partying, do some weekend traveling, or busting curfew with their boyfriends while I would stay here, alone. Honestly, I loved being alone, just relaxing, drawing, or reading. My imagination and creativity usually peaked when I was alone. But, strangely, tonight I did not feel like doing anything. There was no creative thought in my head. Just… sadness; loneliness.
I silently passed through the kitchen, the living room, and opened the door to my bedroom. I flipped on the desk lamp and plopped onto my bed. I looked at my roommate's bed across the room and heaved a sigh. If school isn't hard enough, roommate issues were harder. It's been two months and we're still not getting along. It was a mistake to room with these girls. I know I had no say in the matter, but it was a mistake.
I eyeballed a pair of scissors sitting on my desk. The weight of this loneliness was just too much to bare anymore. I felt the throbbing pain of a sob rise in my throat until I heard a voice say, "What's wrong?" I jumped at the suddenness of the question and forced the lump back down my throat. I turned towards the closet as a dark figure stepped out of the shadows. First, a muscular, green leg with an oddly shaped, two-toed foot was exposed to the light. Next was a finely tuned body, plated with a smooth plastron and rough shell. The light climbed up two large, three-fingered hands and thick, muscular arms, until finally the head. I looked upon the kind, yet sad face of the creature. I could read the concern in his expression on his brow. His purple mask did not hide the emotion from his soft, brown eyes, either.
I said nothing as he slowly walked over to me and knelt beside my bed. The trail of his bandana draped over his broad shoulders and I couldn't help but turn my head down to look away. "What's the matter, Ali?" he asked again.
"Nothing, Donnie," I sighed, eyes still nervously looking away.
I knew his name, but how did he know mine?
I then felt the warm touch of his hand under my chin, tilting my head up so we could see eye to eye. My heart began to race and I slightly blushed. This was Donatello, but an older version of him. After all, I grew up knowing him. It would only make sense that he would age as I did. He still had that beautiful, olive green skin, even though the shadows of the room darkened it, and his eyes were the same knowledgeable, caring eyes I adored. I just can't believe he's here.
He slightly smiled. "You can breathe now."
Oh, I wasn't breathing? I flushed with embarrassment when I noticed. I opened my mouth, took a deep breath, and shakily exhaled. "Sorry."
Donnie removed his hand and gazed into my eyes a little longer. "Is it really nothing?"
I indecisively nodded.
Donnie then looked towards the scissors on my desk. He just looked at them for a while, then looked back at me. All of a sudden, he grabbed my left arm. I jumped. He waited a moment for me to calm down, then he slowly pushed the sleeve of my hoodie up my scrawny arm. I could feel his hand trembling at the sight he saw.
"Why?" he whispered in a shaky voice.
I did not answer. I could not answer because I could feel that lump slowly rising in my throat again. My brow and my stomach scrunched with guilt. How did he know? They were old ones any way, and there were not that many. But still, how did he know?
"Why?"
I shut my eyes and turned my head away as I tried to push his grip off my arm. "Nothing, Donnie. It's nothing," I sobbed.
I gasped as I was suddenly tugged into an embrace. Donnie's strong arms wrapped around me as he held me tightly to him. I could hear his heart beat in a slow, sorrowful rhythm. He rested his head on top of mine and didn't say a word.
"Donnie!" I sobbed, trying to push away from him. Tears began to roll down my face. Was I crying because of guilt or was it the regular crying that came with depression? I wasn't sure. I weakly struggled in his arms with all these emotions swirling up a storm inside me. "Donnie!" I cried out again.
"Don't do this to yourself," he said. "Don't do this to me." As I began to calm down at his words, he loosened his grip. He pressed his forehead against mine and held onto my shoulders as he spoke softly. "You're stronger than this. I know you are. Please, don't do this. Don't."
"Donnie," I replied in a shaky whisper, "I can't. It hurts too much. I can't."
He gripped me tighter. "Your spirit is not that weak, Ali. I feel it!" he said in a firm tone. "Don't give up. Please. Just don't give up."
I have heard those words may times before, but never by him. With Donnie saying those words to me, my body slowly began to relax. 'Don't give up.' He was saying he believes in me. Donnie believes in me.
He pulled away from me and looked deep into my eyes. Was he crying as well? He eyes were a bit red. "Promise me," he said as he thumbed away a tear on my face, "promise me that you will never give up."
I looked at him, his eyes filled with genuine concern that pierced my heart. My painful expressions slowly vanished and I just gazed at him. He cared. He actually cared. A feeling I believed no one could feel for me, but he did. I sighed, then looked at him with confidence and said, "I promise."
Donnie's grip relaxed and he sighed with relief as he rested his head on mine again. He hugged me as he whispered, "Good girl. Good girl."
We held each other in an embrace for a while. It wasn't long before I found myself dozing off in his arms. I jolted awake as I felt him forcing me back down on the bed. "Ssshhhh," he whispered. He reassuring voice calmed me down and I felt groggy again. Gently, he rested my head on a pillow. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I could feel the warmth of his face close to mine as he leaned over me. He took my wrist and held it firmly in his hand. He used his large thumb to slowly and deeply massage my palm. I wrapped my fingers around his thumb as he continued. He then pressed his nose on my collar bone. I blushed and shuttered as I felt him inhale and exhale through his nostrils, as if he were trying to memorize my scent. Then, I felt a smooth, warm, wet tongue push against my skin. It slowly ran up my neck and under my chin. I tilted me head back and moaned, my legs shifting and my body trembling with pleasure. "Ssshhhh," he said again, rubbing my head. As soon as the tingles stopped coursing through my body, I relaxed and laid silently on the bed. All I heard was the fading sound of Donnie's voice saying, "Good girl. Good girl."
I slowly stirred awake. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the window. I did a good stretch and sat up. My roommate was already up. It was 8:30. Of course. If I were to take a guess, she would have tried on her fourth outfit with a whole new set of jewelry to go with it by this time. She barges through the door, not even caring if her entrance was loud or not.
"Oh good. You're up," she said. "How do I look?"
She twirled around in her sparkly outfit and I answered, "It's nice."
She rolled her eyes, looked at me with an "innocent" smile and said, "Why should I bother to ask you if you say the same thing about everything? No offence, Ali, but you really should get more creative." She twirled around. Just before she leaves the room, she told me "We're going to the movies in an hour. We'll see you when we get back, ok?" I heard her dash into another room to get the opinion of another roommate on her outfit.
I couldn't help but shake my head. I then looked at the pair of scissors on my desk, then to the closet. I smiled as I held my arm. "I promise, Donnie. I promise."
