They Say Freak
Suggested Music: The Red by Chevelle
-oOo-
He was alone.
The steady, low thump of his fists landing in even succession as they collided with his punching bag was the only sound that permeated the air. Sweat dripping down his face, stinging his eyes, burning.
Another distraction.
The words never faded. Never grew lost or jumbled, tossed about in a slur of anguished memories through the passing of the years.
"Sweet dreams, you cursed freaks."
He clenched his jaw. Each blow a cascading shock; quick shooting pain.
It had started again.
Never staying dormant for long, it always remained, ready and waiting beneath the surface. Lurking. Seeking the right moment to consume him entirely.
"Over here! That freaky alien!"
He knew it all too well. The sound of his harsh jagged breathing echoing in his head, doing nothing to drown it all out. He wanted to scream, but even his voice seemed to have gotten lost. He never had been one much for words anyway.
"Just like that other stinkin' freak, you're all gonna disappear."
"You actually thought someone like me could be friends with a freak like you? Pathetic."
The words always seemed to slice deeper when not directed at him.
A trembling voice retelling biting words.
A pair of haunted eyes at a painful memory.
He knew no amount of fighting could ever take back the words that would forever taint his brothers' hearts. It was difficult when even his fists failed to chase it all away. It slipped through his fingers, unstoppable. The word that would brand his family till death.
The word singed into his identity.
"You calling me ugly? Seen a mirror lately circus freaks?"
"What's this? They're sending freaks against me?"
They say freak.
All of them. Those who had no more right to normalcy than him. Their words, slick and dripping from their filthy mouths. They shrieked it. Cursed it. Leered. Laughed. He knew what he was. He knew what it was they saw, what they would always see, forever shunned from the world by his very own existence.
As though he had a choice in the matter.
"We're getting' real sick of you freako muties invadin' our turf!"
"Every time that lunatic Shredder attacks, it's because of you freaks!"
He refused to shut his eyes. Their twisted, foul faces would just filter through. He didn't need the darkness to recall their sneers. Didn't need the solid, familiar pressure beneath his knuckles to jar him back to the reality he called life. Their voices were as real as the chills that ran up his spine; the ragged breathes that rasped from his throat.
"Look at the freaks. You're going down, freaks."
"You gonna hide like a coward behind those…those freaks?"
One after another. Spitting out their lies. He would never lay down to them. Not when his fists still held life, not when that cold, familiar grip of metal clenched between his fingers could still draw red. As long as there was breathe inside him, he would stop their venom from killing them all, poisoning his family. Shielding them from the reality of themselves; demons he had long ago faced.
"Let's start with just exactly what kind of freak are you, anyway?"
He couldn't accept it. He couldn't forget it. He couldn't ignore it. He could never deny it. What had been beaten into him so many times had begun to shape his own existence, defining who he was.
And he hated it.
Hated how that one word above all else could turn him inside out until he could no longer separate it from his own identity.
How it had transformed him.
"You got away before, freak, it ain't happenin' again."
Each strike solidified their words. Numb, covered in sweat, he ignored the rising blur of his vision. He had known the risks. He had ignored the warning signs even when it had all come crashing in around him.
"You space freaks haven't left earth."
The scream finally burst forth, but his voice wasn't his own. A strangers'. Someone else's in need of saving. Some other lost soul, afraid of what he might find when faced with his own reflection. But by then, there would be no one to help him. He would be alone, just like he was now. Left with only the shadows for company before they too would eventually close in and choke him. Trap him.
"I said stay out of my way, freak!"
He raced against their voices. Pounding. Smashing them out of existence.
"Why're you hangin' with freaks?"
They would always be there, screeching in his head. Pushing him until he became the very thing they called him. The very thing he hated most.
"You freaks!"
He would never stop. Would never rest.
"So long, freak, I got work to do!"
Until he was seeing red again.
-oOo-
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Through the many incarnations of the Turtles, it has always struck me just how often they are referred to as Freaks. Every quote is borrowed from one of these instances. A thousand thanks for my amazing beta and the inspiration for this piece.
Disclaimer: I do not own the TMNT. Music owned by Chevelle.