Can I Unleash My Imagination Yet

This is a sequel to 'Unleash Your Imagination' by LOSTrocker, a fun read that I'm sure anyone of you will enjoy so be sure to go check it out!

Can I Unleash My Imagination Yet?

After Mikey introduced me to the world of fan fiction I've spent months reading all sorts of stories; some absolutely amazing, some… well they weren't so good but at least they had decent grammar… mostly. Anyway, the point is I've finally got up the courage to do the most terrifying thing imaginable. I am going to write my first fan fiction.

Okay, so it may not seem that impressive but hey, it's kinda intimidating knowing anyone with a computer could read this story if they wanted to! Forcing myself to relax a little I decide to just enjoy writing it and forget what the readers might think for now. So, first thing's first, what should I write about? Well actually that's the easy part because I've already settled on my favourite book series, His Dark Materials.

Now comes the bit I've been dreading since I chose to do this; the plot. Unfortunately – or fortunately depending on which way you look at it – I don't get any time to think over it before an all too familiar voice is calling me.

'Donnie! Leo broke the toaster again! You gotta see this dude, I've never seen it so-' When he appears in the doorway I can see Mikey's reflection in the monitor, head cocked to one side with a mischievous grin on his face. Uh-oh.

'You're writing a fan fi-'

Before he can finish his very loud sentence I clamp my hand over his mouth and glare at him.

'Mikey, if Raph or Leo ever find out about this and end up teasing me for the rest of my life then I am holding you responsible. Got it?' He nods timidly. With a cheery smile I release him and collapse back into my seat, biting on my lip as I return to, I shudder, the plot. After several minutes of staring vacantly at the screen I hear Mikey moving to sit on a workbench nearby.

'Need some help bro?' Shaking my head I smile faintly as the seed of a plot begins to grow in the back of my brain.

'Oh c'mon bro, let me help. Please, please, please, please, please!' Dang! The little kernel of an idea disappeared almost the second Mikey began to talk and now I can't seem to remember what it was about. Making myself stay calm I decide to take his help; the smile on his face is like a little kid who's seen the snow outside the window on Christmas morning.

'Goodie! So what are you writing about?'

'His Dark Materials but I don't have a plot yet.' Shaking his head Mikey tuts dramatically; I quirk an eye ridge at him.

'Donnie, Donnie, Donnie. A true writer doesn't just think of a plot, the plot has to come to you. You see there's a strange process when it comes to writing a…' I've already tuned him out as another idea springs into my head much faster than the last one. Finally with inspiration on my side I slide up to the desk, fingers poised to type. SMACK!

'Ouch! Mikey what the shell!' My little brother doesn't even look a bit sorry for slapping my fingers, as if I was a little kid getting caught stealing cookies from the jar.

'Donnie you can't just start typing! Did you not listen to the process? First you need to visualise the characters in the situation.' It takes a lot of self-control on my part not to burst out laughing… or throw Mikey out of the room, either would be good. Still, you don't grow up with someone for your entire life without picking up a few useful skills and if there's one thing I know about Mikey it's that the sooner you cave, the sooner he'll lose interest.

So, mentally rolling my eyes I lean back and 'visualise' the characters. It might have really been helpful had Mikey not taken it upon himself to assist me even more.

'Okay, so just picture their expressions, imagine what they might say. Take your time, you can't rush this… oh hey Raph!'

My eyes snap open. Sure enough Raphael is standing in the doorway with that familiar smirk on his face, looking at us as if we've gone mad.

'Uh… what are you doing?' I open my mouth to offer a decent excuse for what's going on – anything but the truth this time! – but Mikey beats me to the punch.

'I'm helping Donnie write a fan fiction.' I wonder if Master Splinter will be sad only having three sons? Ah well, either way I'm going to kill Michelangelo.

Distantly I can hear Raphael in peals of laughter but ignoring that I leap out of my chair, vaulting towards my little brother and sending us both careening to the floor.

Vaguely, as I pin Mikey to the ground I realise this could work for a fan fiction story – maybe Recess? Huh. Mikey's not totally useless after all. …I'm still gonna pound on him though!