Blames, Tears, and Regrets

03. Focus on the Present

Author's Note! Ah, my third chapter. I hope this doesn't end up in tragedy. *evil smirk* Do leave a review.

Disclaimer Notice! I disclaim the franchise Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, they belong to its respective owner. What I do own on the other hand, was the story twist I made. That's all.

BLAMES, TEARS, AND REGRETS

A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Fan Fiction

Chapter Three

Focus on the Present

Leo stopped at the doorway, his hand still gripped tightly on the knob, his heart seemed to stop as his breathing seemed to halt as well. He had seen this scene before, even familiarized himself with it, but still every time he went through that door, he still had some difficulty accepting it.

It....

His fault...

He could feel tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he stared at the scene which looked awfully familiar with the dramas he saw on TV.

So, this is why the characters always tear up when they saw it. Now, he knew what they feel. Cause now, he felt it first hand...but the pain seems doubled. Tripled.

He watched as the monitor which dictates his brother's life make an up and down movement and emits the sickening 'beeping' sound. The only thing that ensures him that his brothers were still alive. That he hasn't failed them...too much.

The tears that wailed up in his eyes cascaded down as his emotions kept on building up. The guilt he felt was too much! Too much, that he fell to his knees in desperation.

It was his fault, all his fault.

If he hadn't...

If he had been much stronger...then!

He hugged himself, his body shivering from too much emotion mixed with the coldness of the night.

Tears continue to fall down from his cheeks. He whined and cried, trying to force out all his emotions.

It was all my fault. I had brought them this.

He stared at the ground. He felt his body goes numb. The pain in his head came back, doubled. It was probably brought up by his lack of sleep - his self-inflicted punishment.

How could he even sleep? Ever since the night he brought his fallen brothers home, he was always tormented by nightmares created by his mind. No, not nightmares. They were too real to be a dream. They were his memories.

It should be me...

"It should have been me..." He mouths those words silently. He should have been the one lying down on the table with wires injected at him, hanging for his life. It should have been him, instead of his three brothers.

He slowly stands up, forcing his numb and pained body to stand up and maintain his balance. He took small steps and walked at the middle of the room.

His three younger brothers were lying on each separate makeshift bed, forming a line. A heart beat monitor was located at the upper right corner of the room, strapped at each of his brothers. Three lines rhythmically beat; three lines, three lives.

On each side of the bed was dextrose, something that ensures the health of his brothers.

He stared at the limp figures of his brothers. They have bandages covered mostly of their body, some slices here and there, marks that reminds him of his mistake.