Race. [TMNT 2012]

Part II: Finish

Song: Sad Song - We The Kings

   I'm alright.

   Sometimes, I convince myself that it's just a dream. That when I finally wake up from the dream, Charlotte will still be alive. That I will still get to see her beautiful eyes and smile. That maybe she's outside my room, waiting for me to come out and greet her with a hug.

   Then I blink, and I am forced back into the nightmare I call my life.

   The Mutanimals are there to entertain my thoughts for a good week. Donatello insisted they stay with us for a little bit so he can watch over their wounds. I spend the days watching my brothers and our friends reminisce over the war. They brag and, injuries permitting, showed off their favorite moves they used. They never seem to run out of stories to tell each other.

   I am more reserved than the rest. I like to sit off to the side and listen to their dramatic tales. Any time one of them mentions Charlotte, however, they fall into an awkward silence and turn to look at me. The tension in the room forces me to slip away and hide in my room for the next five hours, my grief renewed.

   When the Mutanimals finally leave to go back to their independent lives, the war is hardly ever mentioned. The only time I hear about it is when the news brings up a blurb of it. They talk about the mysterious death of Saki and his missing associates. Half the nightly news consists of his henchmen's possible whereabouts. Maybe that's why I don't watch television anymore.

   The Mutanimals go off to another part of the city. They do nightly patrols like we do, though they never find a permanent home. They travel from place to place in New York City as they discover new objects that interest them. They are sort of like packrats, but they make use of all the items they find.

   Casey and I don't talk much anymore. The only time he shows up at the lair is when April forces him to. Other than that, I don't see him. I guess he blames me for Charlotte's death. I can't help agreeing with him.

   Actually, Casey caters to Donatello more than he does to me. If he comes to the lair, he fades into my brother's lab until it's time for him to leave. I never bother investigating what they're doing, however; frankly, I couldn't care less.

   I avoid everyone. Even my brothers. I spend just enough time with them to stay in practice and patrol the city, then the rest of my time is left to myself.

   My alone time is the most dangerous part of the day. Everything seems to remind me of Charlotte. It's honestly ridiculous how many times I hear her in the breeze, or see her silhouette disappear around corners. I even chase after shadows sometimes, thinking she's still alive and she's just playing hide and seek.

   I hang around Charlotte's grave more and more each day, until I am there more than I'm at home. I sit on my knees and cry. Or I pace and throw rocks at trees. One time, I threw one so fast that it bounced off the bark and hit my cheek. It left a minor cut that my brothers had questioned me for ages about. Even after I told them the truth, they still didn't believe me. I understand why; I don't trust me either.

   Elizabetta tries hard, probably too hard, to comfort me.  She reminds me almost daily that she will listen if I need to talk, but I never accept her offer.  I'm fine on my own.

   Lucy is less insistent about it, though she does show up at the park occasionally to talk to me.  I brush her off, however.  Looking at her brings back too many memories of Charlotte.

   Michelangelo messes around with me a lot. He thinks his jokes make me feel better. Little does he know, my laughter is forced and my smiles are simply masks to make him feel like he is helping. My happiness is just a show for his sake. I don't mind. I just wish I had more to offer.

   Donatello, the turtle of virtually no emotions, is very sympathetic towards me. He suggests different hobbies I can obtain to cheer myself up. He even comes up with his own herbal remedies to ease my condition. I kindly accept his antidotes, but I never actually drink them. They smell like the forest, and I am not about to drink something that reminds me of Charlotte.

Leonardo is the only brother willing to ask me what's bothering me. He's smart enough to know it's more than Charlotte. And he is right. When I'm not thinking about Charlotte, I am thinking about that innocent man I killed. I just can't believe I did such a horrible thing for the Shredder's amusement. I betrayed everything I've ever known. I hate myself for it.

Naturally, I never tell Leonardo about my murderous side. He will never understand. He'd never stop looking down on me, even though it was for the sake of the world. He always puts honor before anything else, and what I did broke that rule in far too many ways.

Overall, I am drowning. I want to feel Charlotte's fingers between mine. I long to have her pull me into her soft embrace and listen to her rhythmic breathing as she sleeps on my plastron. I want to watch every sunrise with her. I will her to materialize beside me every second of the day, but it never happens.

I never expected my heart to grow so attached to her in such a short time. She meant just as much to me as my brothers. And being the over-guarded toughie that I am, that's a pretty impressive ranking to reach.

Maybe I'm just being overdramatic. Maybe I need to suck it up and move on. But that doesn't stop me from screaming at the sky day after day, begging it to send her back to me.

Maybe I'm not alright after all.