Chapter 1: Who am I? (Part One)

It was a question I had asked myself nearly every single day for the last four years of my life. Who am I and what am I doing? This whole life thing was so unbelievably strange sometimes. I'm 24 and yet I felt fifty. In the prime of my life and yet I feel so over it. During my years on this earth I found myself having good days and bad days; very bad ones. Those were the days when I didn't want to get out of bed, I couldn't be bothered with work and people altogether and when I came home I just wanted to curl up with wine and chocolate.

I shouldn't really drink (it makes me stroppy) and my mother tells me I should watch what I eat (as I'll get fatter) - but I do neither. I don't think of myself as fat; I prefer the term curvy - and besides a size 14 is not fat it's normal. Anyway, who should I watch my weight for? It's not like I have a husband, boyfriend or even one or two guys that are interested. I am, well, to put it simply, on my own and as long as I feel okay with my weight why should I let it bother me?

But weight issues aside, over these past years I have felt like I'm stuck in a rut. So, when the opportunity came to travel to New York I literally jumped at the chance. Then, admittedly, I spent the next few days worrying about it. You see, that's another of my traits - I worry. Yes a little too much on occasion but I can't help it. Things always seem to go wrong for me so naturally I assume they are just going to go belly-up even before they've begun. Some say I'm a pessimist - I say I'm a realist.

When I told my mother I was going to America you could hear the cries of anguish several miles away. She too is a worrier; in fact I always assumed that I inherited that particular trait directly from her. Her main worry was because I wasn't a seasoned traveler and the furthest I'd traveled to as late was Wales.

But what's wrong with that? I like Wales. It's nice and relaxing, has nice beaches, good walking and I feel comfortable. What she didn't understand was that now I was sick of feeling comfortable and I wanted to do something new and different. I wanted change, in fact I needed it. It terrified me, but at the same time spending the next four years doing the same things terrified me even more and I had always yearned to go to New York and be a part of that amazing place. I have two big photographs in my house of iconic New York scenes: one of the Brooklyn Bridge, one of Central Park. I put myself in both of them every other day. Now the time had come when I would be seeing both of those particular scenes for real and I was so excited; if a little nervous. But that was only natural right?

I avoided seeing my mother until the very last minute as I didn't want her making me even more anxious. When I arrived at her house I was a picture of calm and tranquility; when I left I felt ready to scream, strangle somebody or both.

And now on the plane I was trying to bring myself back into the moment and enjoy myself. I still couldn't get over the fact that I'd won something. I was an experienced competition entree and lottery player but I never even one so much as a free cinema ticket and now here I was on an all expenses trip to the most amazing City in the world.

"Champagne?" An air steward appeared besides me holding a tray with glasses of the bubbly stuff. I smiled at her.

"Why not?" I replied, reaching for a glass. If my mother could see me now! Well, she'd probably have a coronary at the fact that I'm drinking alcohol but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Snuggling back into my seat I looked out of the window and sipped my bubbles. This was going to be one Hell of a trip I thought to myself happily.

Who am I? (Part two)

Surveying the scene below Raphael waited for his brother's instructions; that's how it was every single night - he stood around like a goof ball whilst his bossy brother made all the decisions and then got a kick out of lording it over them. Still, least he was over on the adjacent roof-top and not shouting things directly at him. No instead, he had got left with Mikey. The youngest turtle was practicing his skate moves.

"We're suppose to be on look-out not messing about" said Raphael angrily

"Ooo, what's got into you? Is somebody jealous because I bought my board and you left yours behind? Ey ey? Is that it?" asked Michelangelo whizzing past him in a handstand position.

"No"

"Really? You sure about that bro? Cos your face says otherwise? You look really mad..." Michelangelo then went round and round him in circles

"It's you!" growled Raphael "not your stupid board"

"You sure? You sure?"

Sticking out a foot he knocked his brother off balance; Michelangelo fell heavily and bounced a couple times, stopping eventually by a ventilation shaft.

"Ouch! Bro, you're mean" he whined, rubbing his arm

"Well, you're annoying" Raphael stomped over to the other side of the building.

"Where you goin? Leo says we can't leave the site till he gives orders..."

"Leo says too much" replied Raphael under his breath as he moved his way over the roof tops leaving Michelangelo behind. Creating a sizeable distance between himself and his brothers he began to feel a bit more relaxed. He did love Mikey but he also found him somewhat irritating. He felt sure that Leo paired them on purpose because they too had had words earlier on in the day.

Reaching the end of the row he parked himself up on the ledge and sat down, dropping one leg over the edge he looked across the City. Would this be how it always was? Him and his brothers playing the big heroes. Admittedly in the early days, when they were all teenagers, it had been exciting. Now, however, he felt like he wanted more; needed more but he couldn't quite understand what. He just felt unfulfilled; and at times, fed up. His depression often turned to anger and even though Master Splinter had taught him some deep breathing techniques to calm himself down - at least half of the time these techniques didn't work.

Dear Master Splinter.

He'd been a leader, a friend, a father.

There was never a day that went by where he didn't think about him. Though he felt sad at the loss he refused to cry in front of his brothers. That was something he kept for himself when alone in his room.

"Why can you never obey my orders?" The sharp cutting voice of his brother interrupted his thoughts "I told you to stay with Mikey on the opposite roof - what if we'd have run into trouble? Donnie and I may have needed back up"

Raphael didn't bother to take his eyes away from where he was looking, besides, if he knew anything about Leo he would just be standing there arms folded across his chest and giving him the 'harsh stare'.

"Raph? Are you even listening to me?"

"Nope"

Leonardo marched over to him and took hold of his arm "You're supposed to be back up"

"Well" snapped Raphael snatching his arm away from his brother's grip "Maybe I don't want to be back up! Maybe I'm fed up with being back up!"

"What's that supposed to mean? We're a team remember?"

"No Leo, you boss us around like we're your slaves and those two are so dumb they just take it. Well, I'm done. From tonight it's over, you do your thing in your team of three and I'll do my thing!" He walked away huffing, not wanting his brothers to see the tears in his eyes.

Leonardo went back to the others.

"What's wrong with Raph bro?" whispered Michelangelo nervously

"He's being a big baby as per usual and throwing his toys out. Looks like it's just us on patrol guys, let's roll out, could be some more foot clan in need of a little pounding"

"Oy yeah! Michelangelo is ready for that!" announced the youngest nearly running over Donatello in his eagerness.

"Hey, would you watch it! You nearly rolled over my foot!"

"Oops! Sorry D!"

Pausing briefly to glance back at Raphael; Leonardo led his brothers away. He didn't understand why Raph was being so awkward. They'd been doing this for years. Someone had to keep the bad guys of the City under watch but if Raph no longer wanted to be a part of that then so be it. He was done too.