Ahhh...a chapter 3. Never thought I'd be so interested in this story.
Normally, I start but never finish. I have confidence in this one...
THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!! And, FairDrea, I appreciate the help in chapter 2.
(Oh, and it was corner back; I can see why that would throw people off though. I've
never even HEARD of the position.) And yes, Echo, grammar and spelling really do
count. And to everyone else...^_^ Thank you!
GO READ FAIRDREA'S STUFF SHE'S THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!! (After reading me, of
course....LOL.)
Raphael was spread lazily across his bed, picking at the food in his teeth with the tip of his sai. It was a dangerous thing to do, especially since he could recall hundreds of occasions when Mikey had burst in on him and scared him half to death, causing him to slice his gums or something. One arm behind his head and one knee bent up, he was listening attentively to Linkin Park.
Raph loved Linkin Park's music. Although their music was always sad or angry, they portrayed the emotions of everyday people (in this case, turtles) perfectly. The thoughts, the anger, the desperateness, the hurt...all of it made Raph. He understood them perfectly, and somehow felt like they understood him; it seemed like they wrote the songs about Raph.
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
Raph closed his eyes, taking in the essence of the music...the feel of the lyrics molding into images. He felt comforted that someone else out there could feel the same way he felt.
Something has been taken from deep inside of me
The secret I've kept locked away no one can ever see
Wounds so deep they never show they never go away
Like moving pictures in my head for years and years they've played
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)
(If I could take all the shame to the grave I would)
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)
(I would take all my shame to the grave)
Shame...that was Raph's problem. Shame of being a turtle, shame of having an old rat for a sensei, shame of his brothers, shame of the life of secrecy...shame of being a freak. A mutant turtle. Chills ran their icy fingers up and down Raph's neck as he became overwhelmed with the truth behind the words.
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
Sometimes I remember the darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories I wish I didn't have
Sometimes I think of letting go and never looking back
And never moving forward so there'd never be a past
If only he could change his past...if only he could decide how his life would go. If it were up to him, he wouldn't have fallen in the goo. At least he would have been a normal turtle living a normal turtle life. He wouldn't want to be a human if he could help it, seeing that the violence, the hate, the heartbreak -- every single bit of it -- was what humans were. They didn't just kill, they tortured. Raph was passionate about the fact that humans were disgusting, although he himself didn't mind a good blood spill every now and again. 'But it's only those who torture others that I kill...' he reasoned with himself. Humans killed for no real reason. Humans were disgusting.
In fact, humans wrote this fantastic song. He felt the bitterness tighten around his mouth and his shoulders...he couldn't stand humans.
However...they could love. As for Raph and his brothers...
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)
(If I could take all the shame to the grave I would)
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)
(I would take all my shame to the grave)
Raph didn't know love. He knew that it was something two "people" shared, something magical. Something he wanted to know about. He hated not knowing; it made him feel so inferior knowing he couldn't know. It wasn't the type of love he had for his brothers or Splinter, but it was a love that only humans could have. He felt the longing and craving for the company of another who wouldn't run away, who wouldn't ask what was wrong because they'd already know, who would sit there in silence with him and not need to speak because they'd speak silently...
Raph figured nobody would ever want to love him. His pleasure was fighting, his heart was cold as ice, he was distant, untrusting, rigid...he couldn't hold a heart in the palms of his hands without hurting it. His anger always got in the way, and the closest thing to him would tremble under his rage. He couldn't even express to his brothers that they meant the world to him.
The next part Raph eagerly and enthusiastically sang along with. He was fairly good at singing Linkin Park songs, seeing that the anger in their voices matched the same tone as the anger in his heart. It was the climax, the story of Raph's life...
Just washing it aside
All of the helplessness inside
Pretending I don't feel misplaced
It's so much simpler than change...
Raph relaxed and fell onto his pillow, dropping his sai and shutting his eyes tight together. It was too true. All he did was hide it away, pretending nothing ate away like an infesting parasite at his heart. His heart...a part of him that was horribly fragile and helpless against popular belief. He listened to the rest of the song in a melancholy state.
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
It's easier to run
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made)
It's easier to go
(If I could change I would take back the pain I would)
(Retrace every wrong move that I made I would)
(If I could stand up and take the blame I would)
(I would take all my shame to the grave)
As the song ended, Raph sat up and switched off his CD player. He glanced down at his sai, which was stained at the tip with a couple droplets of crimson blood. 'Must have cut my gums again,' Raph thought. Blood...it reminded him of his mask, and his mask reminded him of blood. However, it also reminded him of fire, since it burns. But he also was reminded of rage, hatred, anger...
That's what Raph was. A mold of blood, fire and rage. "A rage of bloodthirsty fire..." Raph decided. "I burn whatever crosses my path." At the thought of the word "cross," which also meant angry, Raph punched his pillow with all the strength he had.
"DAMN!"
No matter what he did, he couldn't escape the truth. He was, and always would be, a cold-hearted, hot-tempered jerk that was built to kill. A monstrous machine. That's all he was good for. He could hardly be a good brother. Raph realized that when he saw the bruise on Leo's arm.
Raph cursed again, and abruptly stood and stomped out of his room. He was about to grab his coat and fedora when a familiar voice caught the fuming, cursing air around him and settled it to a dull roar.
"My son, where are you going?"
Splinter stood outside his subway car, leaning against his stick and looking solemnly at Raph. Raph felt suddenly the guilt of what he had felt earlier. He had been ashamed that a rat was his sensei, and now he felt that filial love.
"Out. That okay with you?" Although he felt a sudden rush of love again, he still did not want to make himself vulnerable to Splinter just yet. Maybe when he had cooled off...
"No, my son. You must stay here. I want to speak with you."
"Can't this wait? I've got a lot on my mind."
"Yes, I know," Splinter began, walking uneasily towards the red-masked turtle for reasons of his aging. "That is why you and I must speak."
"But I just--"
"Now!"
Raph knew that when Splinter raised his voice, it meant that he had better listen. Raph grunted in protest, stomping his way to Splinter's car. Splinter followed silently, keeping in mind that this was a delicate matter.
"Raphael," Splinter began as he sat down on his favorite pillows. Raph sat across from him, looking evilly at the floor. Splinter continued. "I have sensed a disturbance in your waters. You ripple pain, you radiate anger. You have chosen to face this anger silently. I feel an uneasiness about you. You are uncertain, you are hurt. What troubles you, Raphael?"
Raph sat silently, distrustful as he always had been whether to share his secret with master Splinter. The candles about the room flickered, urging him to speak. Finally, he broke the silence with an indifferent voice. "I don't know."
"But you do. You are the only one who knows what troubles you, and you refuse to share it for fear of being weak and exposed. I have always taught you four turtles to never open yourself to an enemy. Never fall under the pressure of vulnerability. But you have chosen to apply that to your life. A ninja knows his troubles and knows how to course them away. You are fighting a battle that others can fight with you in. Why not share with me?"
"Because there's too much to say!" Raph blurted. He snapped his mouth shut when he realized he had spoken so sharply to Splinter. "Sorry, master Splinter."
"I understand there is much to say. But I have much time to spare. You are my son. I will always find the time to listen to you."
Raph, uncertain and somewhat unwilling, told Splinter of his hate of humans, and his hate of being a freak. He told him of his desire to kill, his hatefulness, his joy in fighting, his hot temper...he even told him about the non-verbal translation he had made about the color of his mask.
Throughout Raph's explanation, Splinter was listening absorbedly, satisfied and happy that Raph was finally releasing some of his troubles in a non-physical fashion. However, he felt that Raph was hiding one important thing; the root of all his anguish.
Raph finished, refusing to give away the one thing he feared anyone to know. The root of his ache, the core of his agony. The fact that he was lonely.
"My dear son...my Raphael..." Splinter soothed fondly,
putting a furry hand atop the turtle's head. "You have translated your mask
in all negative, hurtful things. You have understood it as a desire to kill. And
your blood boils when you release your rage. But do you not also realize that
red is also the color of a heart?
"Blood pumps into a heart, Raphael. Perhaps you do not realize that maybe you do not desire to kill, but to bring life? Perhaps you can love, my
son?"
Raph's tears were brimming his eyes, and he wanted to believe Splinter. However, the downside of it all was pounding in the back of his mind...
'But master, who could I ever love? There is no other freak like me. And I always hurt someone...physically and emotionally.' He hadn't intended on saying it, but rather thought it to himself. If he could only tell Splinter that he was lonely...that he wanted to learn how to love...
"Raphael. I want you to try and trust others with your anger. A volcano cannot be dormant for long. One day it will have to release in the worst way possible. It will destroy anything in its path. Do not become that volcano, my son."
Donny was utterly stunned at the sight of Brandy. Her horns were an apparent part of her that he hadn't ever thought possible. She didn't seem the least bit fazed from his shocked stare, though. Brandy just stood there, allowing him to observe her.
"May I?" Donny asked, lifting his hand up to signify the desire to touch just as she had done to him.
"Of course. Fair is fair."
Donny gingerly fingered the horns, which were seemingly made of a material similar to ivory. He traced his fingers down to the base of them, where the skin met the base of the horn, pushing back her hair. 'Her hair smells almost like cantaloupes,' Donny thought.
It seemed that the horns were part of her skull. Naturally, Donny found this girl to be a perfect opportunity to study further on mutations, but when he remembered that she was, in fact, a girl with feelings and emotions, living and breathing...he cast that thought away for the moment.
"What are you?" he spluttered.
Brandy smiled, answering back, "Do you really want to know?"
Donny nodded.
"You would never believe me."
Donny shrugged. "I'm not all that easy to believe
either."
"I guess your right!" Brandy laughed. Her laugh was light, sweet and
song-like. Donny couldn't help but laugh, too. She was contagious. "I am
one of the Oasai. That's kind of like a sprite or something, whatever it is
humans call them. I am one of many who are the singers of dreams."
"I beg your pardon?" Donny interrupted, unsure if he had heard
correctly.
"Dream Singers. We are the creators of dreams."
Donny felt this was going to take a while, so he sat down on an old tire.
"When a person (or turtle) goes to sleep, their senses
relax and they become very vulnerable. They cannot respond to anything happening
to them, which is often why they cannot control what they dream. This is when an
individual Oasai connects with their host, (the sleeper,) and sings. The song tells a story and creates images. That's why so
many dreams are symbolic, because something from what has happened, is
happening, or will happen translates itself into something familiar, like a
place or an animal. Pretty much, we give everyone a glimpse of what their life
will turn out like. We make their lives and very secretly hint it to them.
Unfortunately, people today are not very well connected with the art of
dreams...they're like poetry, really, and people gradually fail to understand
it. And 90% of what is said is lost when the person wakes up. Many of us are
dying for this reason. That's why I am here, but I cannot tell you what I am
doing. I'd have to learn to trust you first. Understand?"
Donny sat silently by, taking everything in and swallowing bit-by-bit.
"Actually I'm quite a few steps behind you," Donny admitted, standing.
"This is all quite a bit to learn for a first introduction."
Brandy laughed. "Yes, well I apologize for giving out too much. See, since so many people sleep at different times, introductions where I come from are short, and we give as much information about ourselves as fast as we can so we may communicate comfortably with that new acquaintance later on without feeling we've missed something." Brandy stopped to laugh. "I imagine you don't believe me, do you?" Her smile suggested she was right, and Donny, being a male, felt threatened and had to prove his own point.
"It's just not logical! Dreams are completely of the brain; it's the body's way of keeping sane and recognizing mental stress--"
"You're not very optimistic, are you?"
"On the contrary," Donny corrected. "I am very optimistic. Just not a believer of fantasy. Science fiction is as far as I'll go."
"Then study the science of art, poetry..." Brandy paused to look Donny in the eyes, capturing his gaze and holding it with her own mystifying orbs. "And dreams."
Donny couldn't think of a single thing to say.
