Feeling Unloved

Little Raphael sat on a high stool pulled up close to the kitchen counter. He lay his head down on his arms sobbing quietly.

A few moments later a concerned father stepped soundlessly into the room, staring thoughtfully at his son's small form, a hand rubbing gently at his whiskers. "Raphael."

The little one jumped before sitting up to wipe his tears and to glare impassively at the old rat. "Seriously, can't you knock?"

Splinter ignored the jibe, knowing Raphael was making a pointed attempt to cloud the issue at hand. "Why don't you play with your brothers, Raphael?"

The turtle shrugged, "It's not like I wouldn't if they asked me."

"But why do you wait for them to ask? Why not just join them?"

"Because it hurts." Splinter raised an eyebrow at that, prompting Raph to continue. "Every time I ask them if I can go along...there's a really bad silence that spreads between them. It's obvious that they don't want me there, so why should I go with them? I'd only ruin whatever fun they were gonna have planned."

The old rat put a soft hand on his son's shoulder. "You do not know that, my son. They must have some reason for their behavior."

Raphael shrugged Splinter's hand off and refused to meet his gaze. There were no tears in his eyes, but his bottom lip pushed outward in a deep frown. "Yeah Sensei, they say I'm no fun to play with and I hurt them."

"Then you have learned your lesson."

"Yeah, I know...but I've been trying to be better. I've been trying to control my anger, but I just can't help it. I get mad. And they hate me for it." The younger turtle mumbled bitterly, tears of hurt stinging the corners of his eyes.

"Your brothers do not hate you, my son."

"Well they sure don't like me." Raphael retorted.

Splinter glanced at his son sadly, knowing that his second-oldest, even at such a young age, was as stubborn as they came and he would be unable to convince the young turtle otherwise.

"I know they wish I didn't exist. I guess I keep hoping that maybe, if they give me a chance, they'll see that I'm trying my best."

The fatherly rat sighed. "Would you like me to speak with them, my son?"

The fear that surfaced in Raphael's bright green eyes immediately made Splinter eye him warily. What was there for Raphael to be afraid of?

"No Sensei!" Raphael pleaded adamantly, "Then they'd feel like they have to play with me and I don't want them doing it just because they feel bad."

"Raphael..." Splinter began, but his son cut him off.

"It's no use Sensei. There's no way around it. They're going to hate me anyway. I mean, I guess I shouldn't expect them to come ask me to play. They give me no more than I deserve. I'm sorry I can't be better, Father. I've been trying my hardest, but I just can't compare. Everyone knows Leo's the perfect one."

The old rat glanced down at his child with stern eyes. "Leonardo is far from perfect my son."

Raphael only looked down and whispered, "He's better than me."

"Do you truly believe that, Raphael?" The father asked, his gaze serious and strict.

"Yes." The little one answered, his gaze still riveted to the floor.

"Then he is better than you." Splinter answered solemnly. The tears that had steadily been collecting in the young turtle's eyes rushed down his face in rivulets at his father's words and all he wanted to do was go off in a corner and die. Immediately Splinter sensed his child's desperation and distress, and he hurried to explain, "As long as you allow yourself to believe it, it will always be the truth. No one of the four of you is better than the other. Believe me when I say that my son. I love you just as much as I do each of your brothers."