Raphanardo and Mikatello

Chapter 2

???'s POV

You may be wondering, "Who is this person?"
Well, allow me to introduce myself.
My name is - ha, you thought I was going to tell you?
Just like that?
Pathetic...
You have no idea who I am, and it will stay that way...
For now.
It is not my name, but you can call me X.
The unknown ingredient.
I make this story what it is, but you have no idea who I am.
I follow the acts and thoughts of the four.
Leonardo.
Raphael.
Donatello.
Michealangelo.
In a way, you could say I am like their conscience, except, what they do will be their own undoing.
Not mine.
I will be in their minds.
Do not fear, for I will not hurt them.
I do not dare hurt them.
I am simply here to help them.
Help them in their journeys.
What journeys, you ask?
Their journeys to find eachother.
To find their hearts in the other.
Raphael and Leonardo have a bright future ahead together, the same goes for Michealangelo and Donatello.
You still may be wondering who I am.
Be patient, young ones.
Time will bring my façade crashing down.
Time will bring our characters together.
Time will try to rip our characters apart.
Time will break our hearts and put them back together repeatedly.
Time will step on your soul and help it to stand again.
Time will go swiftly, and you won't know what to do.
Time will make you feel lost and broken.
Time may break you down and build you back up.
Time will excite you and dissapoint you a countless amount of times.
There is one thing about all of this.
All of these things have one thing in common.

You can't do anything about it, sweetheart.
And...I'm sorry.

Have you ever heard that one poem?
The one about time and life.
It is called "The Clock of Life."
No?
Okay, I shall recite it to you.

The clock of life is wound but once.
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.

To lose one's wealth is sad indeed.
To lose one's health is more.
To lose one's soul is such a loss that no man nor woman can restore.

Today, only is our own.
So live, love, toil with a will.
Place no faith in tomorrow,
For the clock may soon be still.

~ By Robert H. Smith

Time is limited.
Time is running out.
Time is not on our side.

The clock is breaking.
The gears are rusted.
The hands stand still.
The springs are bending.

And when everything falls apart, the world will crumble before our very eyes.
You'll have to run from things.
Things that will scare you.
Things that will bring your worst nightmares to life.
Things that will shake you to the very core and leave you begging for mercy!
Things that will bring you to the floor and make you scream and plea for a second chance, but when time runs out...

Second...chances...don't...exist.
Do they?
No. They don't.
And...There is nothing...
Absolutely...nothing...
You can do about it, sweetheart.
And I am dreadfully sorry about that.
I would give you every chance you would need, because all anyone wants to do is make everything right in their live's.
It takes more than one chance to do it.
You can't get it right the first time.
And I know everyone has firmly grasped the fact that life is not fair.
We all just wish that life would stop teaching us that lesson.
But, life doesn't work that way.
Life is like that one teacher in school who always reviews the same stuff to make sure you have it embedded in your head for the test.
You get tired of it, yeah?
Me, too.
But, we can't control it.
No one can.
But, enough of my rambling.
Did I bore you?
I'm sorry, sweetheart.
I tend to ramble and over-share.
It's not my fault.
It's second nature.
You may be waiting for the silly author to write the next chapter.
Or, you may be waiting for dinner.
You may be waiting for your mother or father to come home from work.
You may be just bored, and not waiting at all.
But...while you are waiting, precious time is passing you by.
What could you have been doing in the amount of time it took you to read this?
What? No answer?
Oh well.
There isn't much you can do about it now.
That precious time is gone.
Wasted away.
What did you do with it?
Read my rambling.
Such a waste...
You poor thing.
Our time is running out, sweetheart.
This is just the beginning.

                 ~Farewell,
                                      X