Mikey awoke in his room as the smell of a cooked turkey wafted into his room.
It was Thanksgiving.
He had completely forgotten about it. For once everything seemed fine. Everything seemed the way that it should be. Happy.
But then reality struck like a mallet to the face.
It was their last Thanksgiving with Leo before he went overseas.
And possibly their last one with him, period.
Mikey sighed. He had to make the most of this day while he could. Live in the present. Not in the past nor future. He got out of bed and dressed into his favorite orange T-shirts and jeans.
He walked over to his painting canvas and began to paint a family portrait. He painted his father, with his jet black hair and brown eyes. He painted Leo with his dark brown hair and calm blue eyes. He painted Raph with his jet black hair and firey green eyes. He painted Donnie and his dirty-blonde hair and his observant red-brown eyes. He painted himself with his blonde hair and fun loving ice cold baby blue eyes.
He liked the photo and wished that everything could stay like that.
He frowned and sighed. "But all good things must come to an end."
He heard a quiet knock on his door. "Come in." Mikey called as he contiued to paint each character with excellent delicacy.
Leo entered and looked at what his brother was painting. He marveled at the talent his baby brother possessed. The work was brilliant. Magnificent.
"That's a beautiful painting, Mikey." Leo said, his eyes still wandering in amazement.
"Thanks." Mikey said, not looking up from his easle where he was mixing a purple and red color.
"You always did live up to your name." Leo said quietly, but Mikey had heard. He put his paints down and brush.
"It can wait till later." Mikey walked out of his room as Leo called after him.
"Wait, Mikey!" But Mikey pretended to not acknowledge him. All the things the kids were saying to him was finally getting to him, and he was in search of his backpack. He wanted his scissors so badly at the moment, and nothing was going to stop him.
He found his backpack and looked through his pencil pouch for his scissors. Thankfully-to him anyway-
he found them and hid them in his jeans pocket. He walked stealthly to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
He sat on the closed toilet and looked at his wrists. They were free of any cuts, burns, or whip marks. Not for long anyway. He pressed the blade so close to his veins that he may have grazed them. He tore at his flesh and watched as the crimson red liquid flowed from his wrists.
He hated the sight of blood. It sickened him. But the cuts looked so beautiful when he's done. He could put up with a little blood for the beautiful cuts he'd be able to look upon later.
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It was dinner time and the table was full of amazing food. There were fluffy white mashed potatoes, green beans, noodles, corn, cucumbers, strawberries, peaches, cottage cheese, pumpkin pie, apple pie, and a delicious looking turkey to top it all off.
It was their fifth Thanksgiving without their mother. Each year was another year that they don't get to do something with their mother.
Mikey watched as his brothers got their food and sat down. He followed in suit, but he hadn't gotten much. He got three peaches, two strawberries, and a dollop of cottage cheese. Compared to his family's plates he was a tiny mouse.
He sat down next to Donnie who took note on his small appetite.
"Hey, Mike, you ok? You're not eating very much. You feel sick?" Donnie placed the back of his hand against Mikey's forehead.
"I feel fine, Don. I'm just not that hungry."
Raph's eyes widened. "Mikey, not hungry? That's it, the apocolypse has begun!"
Mikey shot an annoyed look over at Raphael. "Not once can you keep your mouth shut." Mikey whispered.
"What was that?" Raph growled.
Mikey sighed. "Nothing." Mikey's phone buzzed in his pocket. Did he dare look at the message? Not here.
Not now. Later, yes. But here? It would be too risky.
Mikey pushed his food around with his fork, occasionally taking a bite of a peach. But soon his brothers and father were finished, so he decided that he was finished too. He cleaned his plate and sat with his brothers on the couch in the living room.
Donnie threw a comforting arm around his little brother and rubbed his arm. "You ok, Mike. You're starting to scare all of us."
Mikey nodded. "I'm fine, Don, honestly."
Donnie sighed. "You don't seem fine though. Before, you were rushed to the hospital because you broke your arm. And yesterday you were shoved in a locker and we didn't find you till it was midnight."
Mikey hugged Donnie's waist. "I'm fine, Don. I promise." Mikey then remembered the text he had gotten earlier. "Excuse me, I have to go...check on something." Mikey said before running off to his room. He locked the door and jumped on his bed.
He quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the text.
'Kill yourself, Michelangelo! Do you hear me?! Go die! Jump off a building for all I care! At least no one will have to put up with you!'
'You're a nothing, Michelangelo! Just die!'
Suddenly, Mikey understood. These kids were right. He wasn't needed. No way. No how. Tears sprung into his eyes. He knew what he had to do. He grabbed a pen and paper and began to write.
Father, brothers,
I'm so sorry it came to this! I just can't stand it anymore! Life, school, just everything! It's all too much! I just wanted to say, I love you all so much. My love for all of you burns violently in my heart.
Father, thank you for taking care of me for all of fifteen years. I know it must have been awful when you had to take care of me all on your own for five years. It must have been very tough. But it must have been hard. I love you so much. Words can't express my love.
Leonardo, thank you for being my oldest brother. I'm sorry if I made you doubt wanting to be a soldier. You totally should be one. You're an excellent fighter. I love you so much Leo...that it hurts.
Raphael, thank you for being my second oldest big brother and protector. You threaten anyone and anything that threatens to hurt me. Unfortunately, there was no way you could save me from this.
Donatello, thank you for being my best friend. I love you so much. You've stucken with me through thick and thin and I love you for it.
I love you all so much. I'm so sorry that I couldn't keep going.
-Hamato Michelangelo
Mikey wiped dry the tears that had fallen on the paper. Mikey placed the note on his desk and walked out of his room. "I'm going for a walk." He called out as he stepped outside. He ran down the street as tears streamed down his face.
"Why can't people leave me alone?!" Mikey screamed at the sky. Mikey ran to the tallest building he could find and climbed the fire escape. He climbed and climbed, knowing that when he came down from the building he wouldn't be using the ladder again.
He thought about how the bullying had gone on for years on end. He thought about what they had done a month ago.
ONE MONTH AGO:
Mikey had walked the school as his entire grade surrounded him. They called him hurtful names.
Stupid!
Dyslexic freak!
Burden!
Weak!
Failure!
Useless!
Keith walked up to him and punched Mikey in the eye. Soon everyone was kicking, hitting, or saying something hurtful about him. Numerous times he had been told to kill himself.
PRESENT:
Mikey sobbed hard as he punched the roof. He shut his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth and fists.
"Now, they'll get what they want!" Mikey screamed at the sky. He felt hopeless. Like every ounce of enjoyment had been sucked away from his fifteen year old soul.
Mikey sighed. "This is goodbye." He said. He stepped towards the edge of the roof. He felt as if he couldn't breathe. He felt as if his happiness had been incinerated to complete nothingness.
And now Mikey had one foot stepped over the edge of the roof.
I am so sorry if the beginning of this chapter is boring. It's hard to write stories when you have to battle depression yourself. Writing helps me not cut, but it's been particularly hard. So, again, sorry if this chapter is just down right terrible, but I plan on uploading soon. If any of you need help or need to talk, just PM me and I'll listen. Anyway did you like it, love it, hate it? Let me know. Your opinion matters. Also if you have dyslexia you are NOT a freak! I didn't mean to offend anyone by it.