Klutz
Title: Dumb Klutz
Summary: What hurts worse? Words or the wounds?
Rated: PG
DIS: I don't own TMNT
.
.
.
He was running on pure rage, the strength in his run coming from the boiling anger from within his gut. He wanted to hit something, beat it into a pile of goo. His fingers itched to make a fist and smash into something. A low growl traveled up his throat and released itself between clenched teeth. All because of the words his brothers' called him. Over and over again they brought him down and he plastered a smile on his face but inside? Inside he was rolling, images of lashing out and wrapping his hands around their throats just to silence their words flashing in his head to the point that he had to make his excuses to leave.
Stupid.
Idiot.
Lamebrain.
Moron.
Those words continued to bounce in his head, the whispers sounding an awful lot like his brothers' voices. He stopped on one rooftop, panting, hands clenching around the ledge. Nails scrapped against concrete as the panting transitioned into sobbing, tears making the orange bandana around his eyes damp. Shaking, he made the first he'd been wanting to make and lashed out at an air vent. Over and over and over again until it bent at an awkward angle and he stepped back: his hand bleeding, his throat burning because while attacking the metal he had screamed. Screamed until there was nothing left and all he was was a shell.
An empty, lonely shell.
Collapsing onto the rooftop he stared up into the sky. He wished he could see the stars. Instead all he got was the smoggy blackness. Fitting, really, with what he was going through at the moment. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, looking at the darkness: but he finally rose up on his feet and headed back to the sewer. Upon entering the lair he noticed the stinging feel of his hand and he looked down to see the busted up knuckles.
"What the shell happened to you?" asked Raphael as Michelangelo entered the kitchen to rinse off his hand.
"Uh, just fell off my board," he said, a hollow excuse.
"Puh, ya knucklehead," said Raphael, punching his brother sharply while walking out of the kitchen. "Some ninja you are. Klutz."
"Yeah," said Michelangelo, empty blue eyes watching as water ran over the raw wound on his hand. "That's what I am..."
Just a dumb klutz...
END
