Dear Diary

by Blue Seidr

A leather-bound journal with a blue cover sits wedged behind a bookshelf. The spine has cracked in several places, and a yin-yang sign had been painted on the front, along with Japanese symbols. This is Leonardo's journal. (A collection of pieces about Leo's thoughts, emotions, and spirit. Drabbles. K plus for safety)

5. Small

2003 verse.

Sometimes, I feel small.

It's not like I am, not by any stretch of the imagination. I am 5 feet tall and a good 180 pounds of muscle and bone. I am not small.

Yet, when I'm near my brother Raphael, a few inches taller and 30 pounds heavier, I feel tiny.

Raph is bulky, large and tough, like a tank, forcing everyone and everything out of his path with his sheer strength. I, on the other hand, am thin, flexible and light, moving quickly around obstacles and taking care of them swiftly and silently.

So, whenever Raph and I go toe-to-toe, I feel small. When we fight, and Raphael towers over me, it's hard not to feel fear. Raph is more than a tank, he is a cannonball, one that smashed through everything, regardless of aim. One day, I think, one day it won't be Purple Dragons he'll obliterate, not Foot he'll crush, it will be me. I won't be quick enough to dodge the blows, I won't be able to hide in the shadows, Raph will find me, and in his fury, hurt me.

I've never said anything of the sort aloud. It sounds crazy, even to me. Being afraid of my own little brother? Ridiculous. Stupid. But Raph isn't little, he's a giant, and one day, I feel like I'm going to be crushed under foot.

I'm being stupid, I know Raph would never intentionally hurt me, but . . . When I stare him down, craning my neck to meet his eyes and seeing the pure rage that festers inside . . . I'm afraid.

I'm tiny, insignificant, a butterfly battling a hurricane. Futile. Nothing I can do will ever stop Raphael, not completely.

Sayonara,

Leonardo