I woke up. I was lying on a hard couch, but I didn't know how I got there. I moaned. I didn't know anything. What happened? I sat up, trying to figure out where the heck I was.
"Look who came back from the dead. Miss I-just-wanna-die." I turned my head towards the voice and looked at a mutant turtle. He seemed familiar. Raphael. Everything was back now. The fight with the men; the turtles, telling me they want to help.
Raphael's brothers showed up. "How are you feeling?" Donnie asked. I looked away. "Better than before." Not really. The sickness was nearly gone – I must've slept for some hours to tell from the hangover – but it was replaced with a bad headache. Like somebody was using my head as a drum. I just wanted to fall asleep, but I knew from experience that I wouldn't fall asleep for the next few hours, at least not without some help.
I sank back on the couch. If there was a thing I hated about my life, it was the fact that I got hangovers nearly every day. And maybe the fact I had to stay outside even in winter. I covered my eyes with my hand, trying to ignore the boys next to the couch.
"You don't seem to feel too good. Do your injuries hurt badly?" Leonardo sounded worried and truly concerned. I looked up to him through my fingers. "Not the injuries. I just got a heavy hangover." The turtles looked curious now. "How does a hangover feel?" I stared at Leonardo. "You don't know how a hangover feels?!" The turtles looked at each other. "We never drink alcohol. Splinter forbids us to, and we actually never had the desire to anyway." Donatello spoke the truth. I could see it in their eyes.
"How old are you guys again?" "We turned sixteen some months ago." I looked at them. "And you seriously never drank alcohol? You're weird." They didn't go on it. "So, how does a hangover feel?" I moaned. "A hangover feels really, really bad. You get a headache, you react sensitive to noise and light, and you just want to die. "
"So you wanna die again? I'm surprised you're still alive with that attitude of yours." I ignored Raphael's comment. I sat back up. "Don't you have better things to do than staring at me?" I didn't mean to be so mean, but they got on my nerves, and, to speak the truth, I felt uncomfortable around them, maybe because they were mutants. I could see that Raphael looked at the other turtles like he wanted to say "I told you!"
This moment, a giant rat came. Seriously, I thought the turtles were scary, but the rat shocked me half to death – though I should've known. "My sons, why aren't you in the dojo yet?" Sons? Was that guy kidding? I looked at the turtles. Nope. Totally serious.
When the rat spoke, they all stood up straight, and after he ended, they bowed. "We're sorry, sensei, but something got between." Leonardo said. The rat spotted me that moment. "Oh. I didn't know we had a guest. How about introducing us, Leonardo?"
"That's -" Leonardo stopped, looking at me. "We don't know your name yet."
True. Our earlier conversations based on the question how to help me or how I felt, but I never told them what my name was.
"My name's Rose."
Leonardo nodded, then he spoke to the rat. "We found Rose on the street, she was injured. We wanted to call an ambulance or at least take her to her home, but she said she had no home and would get big problems if we took her to a hospital. We decided to treat her here. She fainted after our talk, so she doesn't know where we are and can't tell anybody where our lair is." He turned towards me. "He is our sensei – that means teacher if you don't know it yet – and father, Splinter." I didn't ask how Splinter possibly could be their father; I just looked at the rat. I was ready to hear what had to come. He wouldn't allow me to stay, after all I was a total stranger from the street –
"Did you treat her wounds already?" Donatello nodded. "Her right ankle is sprained, her nose's broken and she got a lot of bruises and other little injuries, but I suppose she'll be fine if she rests some days." Splinter nodded. "She can stay here until she's ready to leave. But you still have to train. I suppose she can stay on her own for some time." He looked at me. "You can tell us if you need something. I hope you'll get better soon." He turned to leave. I didn't answer, I was just too surprised. For some reason, he didn't kick me out. He didn't even ask how I got injured.
The turtles left, and Raphael was the last one to. When he came to a door to leave the room, he turned his head for a second towards me, then, he left.
He doesn't trust me like the others do., I thought. Well, I didn't trust him either, so there was no problem. I stood up and started to limb towards something that looked like an exit. It was a big gate that looked like one you could find at a railway station and really; there were rails behind it. I turned around, looking for something worth stealing. I didn't think that those guys had money – how would they spend it? – and I wouldn't try anything food-like they had here, but maybe there was something else useful. I spotted a practical knife – mine was gone after all – and a blanket. I took both things, while paying attention to the room the mutants went into. I could hear the rat shouting something in a language I didn't understand, then the clash of iron weapons. I guessed that the boys were fighting against each other as training, but I didn't really care. All that counted was that they were too busy to figure I was stealing from them.
I took a last look to see whether I forgot something, then I limbed towards the exit.
I figured before that the lair was underground. And when I saw the rails I knew that this had to be more or less an underground station. However; it was really difficult to get out of there. There were no signs telling exit, and it took me some hours to find my way out of there. But I did it.
When I got back to the surface, the sun was about to set and my ankle hurted. My headache was still there, and I almost wished I had stayed at the lair. Almost. I limbed into a corner that didn't seem to be too cold, sat down and tried ignoring my ankle. I was exhausted and I felt cold, though I've covered myself in the turtles' blanket. Still, I knew I could find some sleep if nobody would wake me up. Before I closed my eyes, I wondered what the turtles had done once they found out I had left and stolen some of their stuff. What had Raphael said? Had he seen it coming? I yawned. He wouldn't care too much. I bet he was happy I left; he hadn't trusted me after all. The worst thing possible could be that they wanted the blanket and knife back and tried to hunt me down. But we were in NYC. It could take years to find a certain street kid there.
I didn't sleep well. When I woke up, I still was exhausted, and I was pretty sure I've dreamed a lot. Though I couldn't remember anything but green, cold eyes and the clash of iron weapons.
I yawned. I was still sleepy, but way to restless to fall asleep again. I decided to get up and move, hoping my restlessness would go away. But first, I checked my right foot. The ankle was covered in gaze, - Donatello's work, I guessed – and the bandage seemed to be pretty stable. My ankle didn't hurt as much as the day before, but I had the feeling that it would hinder me for some days. I sighed. But, what could I do? Shit happened.
I got out on the street. I was able to walk nearly normally with my ankle, I just limbed a little bit. I headed towards the part of the city I usually stayed in. It was one of these areas where nobody asks any questions as long as you pay. An area full of prostitutes, drug dealers – shortly, scum of the society. People who manage to get through life no matter what.
On my way I passed a group of men, surrounding a girl who could've been my age. She was scared; I could see it in her face, though I just had a glimpse on it. "I – I warn you, I learned how to defend myself …! I –I'll call the p-police…!" The men laughed. She had no chance. I slowed a bit down, watching the group. Not long ago, I was in a similar situation. Maybe the turtles would pick her up, too. But, right now they weren't there, so she would be on her own. Bad luck, girl. I moved on before the men could pay attention to me. She wouldn't be fine. I didn't know what the men were up to, and if it was just about to beat her up, she could call herself lucky. But, luck didn't come down here that often. Most likely, the men would do something worse to her.
When I turned into another street, I risked a look back. The girl was screaming for help now – and for a second, she saw me and looked into my eyes, begging for help. She had beautiful, blue eyes, almost like the eyes of a kid. Tears were swimming in them. I didn't move. I wouldn't help, and she knew it. The tears poured out of her eyes, whose beauty could be the cause of her situation.
I turned, leaving her and her problems behind me. It wasn't my business. I wouldn't risk my safety just to help a total stranger. I wasn't a goddamn hero. I left that job to the turtles – if they had nothing better to do than saving everybody.
I went away, without looking back even once. My ankle hurted again, and I started to feel hungry. I should get some food.
