Chapter Seven
-April-
April sighed in frustration, glaring at the annoying stain that wouldn't come off the bathroom mirror.
Two hours had passed since Casey had gotten himself tangled up in pondweed, and after that experience, no one really felt like swimming anymore. So they had packed up and silently trekked back to the farmhouse to spend the remainder of the day.
April had been scared; Casey was her boyfriend, and he had nearly drowned. When they had reached the farmhouse, she had pulled him aside and hugged him furiously, trying to push aside the thoughts that kept plaguing her, as she wondered what could have happened if Donnie and the others weren't there to have freed Casey's leg from the weed. She could have lost him.
After many reassurances, and "I'm fine babes," April had quickly retired to the bathroom, muttering excuses about 'needing to clean' and ignoring the turtles' concerned looks. She needed to do something to keep herself busy, to keep her thoughts at bay. And the bathroom needed cleaning, so April laminated that it was the perfect thing to do. However she hadn't anticipated that there would be an abundance of annoying stains gracing the shower and the mirror and the sink.
Stains aside, the bathroom was rather cramped. The bathroom window was stuck, and would not open, and the room smelt strongly of mould and mildew. The stench of April's cleaning chemicals was starting to make her feel a little light-headed, and her back ached from crouching over for an extended period of time.
Blowing the strands of stray hair out of her eyes, April got to her feet and stretched, cracking her head from side to side to get rid of the growing aches and pains. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. She looked like she had aged five years over-night. Her clothes were rumpled and her face drawn and tired, her eyes worn and despondent. Shadows hugged her eyes and her fire-engine-red hair stuck out all over the place, Strands fell messily in front of her eyes and over her face. Telling herself that she was still only twenty five, April bent down and picked up her cleaning bucket, forgetting the stubborn stain on the floor and moving over to the mirror.
Trying to ignore her own reflection and pretend that it wasn't there altogether, April started to spray the mirror with glass-cleaner. Watching the suds roll down the pane of glass, April picked up her cleaning rag and began to wipe down the mirror.
It was a boring, mundane job, but it was effective with taking her mind off of things.
Glancing briefly back into the mirror, April tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. A sudden movement caught her attention, making April gasp and whirl around. The bathroom was empty; just her and several cleaning products scattered across the floor. Trying to regain her startled breath, April turned slowly back around towards the mirror and studied it intently. She could have sworn she saw a black shadow flicker past, reflected clearly in the glass. Shaking her head and rubbing her eyes, April silently admonished herself for being stupid, and put it all down to being tired and inhaling to many cleaning product fumes.
Picking up her fallen cleaning cloth, April turned back to the mirror and continued to wipe it down. A chill, not present before, suddenly made April shiver. The room felt colder, like there was a cold draft caressing her now icy skin. But the window was stuck firmly closed, and the door to the bathroom was also closed. Wondering if she was going crazy, April frowned at the mirror, and tried to convince herself that it was an old house, and cold spots were to be expected.
There was another flash in the mirror, unmistakable. April gasped and stumbled away from the glass, whirling round to face whatever was in the room with her. The lights overhead flickered and suddenly cut out, plunging April into darkness.
April tried to slow her racing heartbeat down. She couldn't see a thing. It was just a power failure, just a power failure, April told herself over and over again as she slowly felt around for the light switch.
A pain flared to life in her left check, making April cry out in hurt and surprise. The lights flickered back on, just as quickly as they had flickered off. April stood dumbfounded in the middle of the empty bathroom, clutching her cheek. When she pulled her hand back it was stained with her blood. Her cheek stung, and, turning around to look in the mirror, April gasped when she saw the grooves cut into her cheek, like she had been scratched.
"Hold still, this will sting a little," Donatello warned, gently cleaning the cuts on April's cheek with an alcohol-based antiseptic.
"Ow!" April hissed at the sting, trying to keep her face still.
"Sorry," Donnie apologised.
"It's okay, not your fault," April sighed.
"Who did this to you, April?" Donnie asked gently, kneeling down next to the chair she was sitting on.
"I don't know," April said. "I know I must be crazy. I was cleaning and I thought I saw something in the mirror, and when I turned around to look the lights went out. That's when something scratched me. The lights came back on and I was alone. I'm crazy, aren't I?"
"No, April, you're not crazy," Donnie reassured her, placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "You're not crazy at all."
"Yeah, it must have been a rat or a possum or something," April sighed, leaning back against the chair, unconvinced.
"Miss O'Neil, would you mind if I..?"
"No, of course not, Master Splinter."
Master Splinter gently tilted April's head pack, inspecting the cuts on her cheek with close scrutiny. Stepping back, Master Splinter felt his worst fears arise.
"It truly is a mystery," he said allowed.
A lie, he knew it was a lie, but he was not yet ready to say allowed what he feared, no, what he knew was the cause. He didn't wish to upset April further, and didn't wish to speak his fears in front of Donatello. But he knew, with a sickening heart, that the scratches on April's face were very familiar.
They were the marks Diego left behind.
