Usually I'm not one to put my OWN feelings into my writing, that's why I listen to music when I write, if someone in my story is angry I listen to more agressive music, if someone is sad, I listen to slower music. This time however, I AM going to put my feelings into something. To put it simply without bothering all you precious people: My family and me are going through a lot right now and there's a lot on my shoulders, it causes some fights and when I was sitting aroud today thinking about it (outloud to my friend might I add.) A friend of mine said, "So it's like a Raphael thing." and I thought about it for a bit, and I agreed, because it's sort of the same. SO THIS CHAPTER CAN BE SKIPPED, and it's nothing that great.
It wasn't unusual for Raphael Hamato to say the words, "I'm goin' out." Actually, they were quite common and almost spoken every night, wether he fought with his brothers or not. No one questioned it, they all knew why he was going out, or they thought they did at least. Everytime he left his brothers would look at each other, there eyes saying all sorts of things, "Better stay up to wait for him.", "I should have a first aid kit ready.", "Will he be okay tonight?", mostly, "Why does he have to be such a hot head?" Or sometimes just an eye roll and shake of the head, which spoke more words than actually talking, or staring. However, no one was sure on the real reason he went out.
Sure, sometimes he went out because he was angry, and needed a few heads to bash in, but there was so many times where he just needed to get out, needed the fresh air, and the release of being in the city, and not underground in the confined space his family called home. He felt trapped, locked under his brothers' and father's gaze, he felt like he always had to do something to keep everyone happy, his family always wanted him to be better, and he tried. Tried to be better for their sake, even helping around the lair and training more. It just wasn't enough it seemed, they always gave him that look, as if he wasn't good enough. That was the main reason he left, the reason he would stay out in the wee hours of the night- even if it was cold- and just sit. He didn't always fight (although he'd never tell his family that. They'd think he'd gone soft.) he usually spent the night sitting ontop of the older buildings in the city, watching the people below him. If he was lucky he could see stars, and would just relax. The best word to use would be stress, every time he walked into the lair the stress would choke him with a thick hand, squeezing his neck tighter and tighter until he couldn't take it anymore, and would finally depart from the sewers to go topside, where the wind would caress his cheek, and the noise would soothe him until he was almost asleep, then he would head back to the lair, where stress would abuse him again.
That was why he needed to go topside so much, because of the stress. The thine that made him snap at his brothers, the thing that kept him going, as much as he wanted the stress to be gone, he knew that it was the only thing that kept him going at the same time. He needed the stress, yet he needed to be free of it. That freedom would be granted in short bursts, with the simple sentence, "I'm goin' out."
Gah, this chapter like, means a lot to me in a way xD My house is very stressful, and I'm never home, my family sorta thinks it's because I'm a teenager and want to "grow up" and do what I want, but it's not. I like my family, they just expect a lot and I can't stay at my house without getting mad super easy, and I end up leaving for a few days and coming back to stress. Thanks for reading if you did. xD