He stood on the edge of the building, looking at the roofs of New York City. It's funny how easy it is to disappear in a city like this one; how easy it is to become a nobody. Everyone continues their day. Sure, there are bumps—that doesn't mean people stop. The world keeps turning. Another day goes by; and so much goes amiss.
Being a mutant turtle in New York City was worse than being dirt. At least people step on it: they know it's there. They don't even have birth certificates. They could die and there would be no proof they even existed. Worse than dirt.
You know how when you turn on the news and you see all the crimes and terrible things people did? That's life—that's stinking life. Everyone sees the worst of people, everyone remembers the bad. Only the bad gets credit. You know how horrible that is? The news can't take the time just to say, "Hey folks, that young boy helped that elderly lady across the street. Nice job, kid!" It's crap. It's utter crap.
He and his brothers do so much for this city, and don't get any notice. Do you know what kind of world we would live in if everyone did good just for the sake of it? Then people would look up and appreciate what they did. But no, only the bad gets notice. Only the bad.
The turtle looks at the ground below him. He could jump. It would be easy—it's just a jump. More people get noticed for jumping rather than standing. A jump is easy: standing is harder. He could stop standing, and just jump. Maybe then he'd be at least something.
"Raphael? You okay?" Leo asks, looking at Raph's shell while he's looking down.
Raph glances back at him before completely turning around. "'M fine, Fearless," he smirks and walks to his brother.
He'll keep standing. After all, standing is more rewarding.
What do you guys think? That was a little different than I normally write: I kinda just wrote and wrote. I did it on time too! Aren't you proud?
