TMNT: 2003 Boyfriend scenario - Love Is Blossoming.

Home...no longer - Mickelangelo

Coming home late one evening after a stop at the convention-store, you never would have thought of it to be the last night of strict and uncaring parents. Neither would you have thought of it as the major point of no return in your life.

The first sound reaching your ears when you entered your home was silence. Considering the hour of the day, silence in your room was very unusually. The late night debats or news weren't turned on on the TV, worrying you a lot since it was your parents favorit shows.

Then as if a sharp knife cut through the silence, a almost too loud sound rung through the apartment. The awful sound of paper being ripped to shreds, was what you had heard...and it came from your room.

With your heart dropped somewhere down in your feet, you rushed to your room, bashing the door wide open. Inside you found the two people who had raised you, in the middle of turning your precious things into trash.

"What are you doing?!" you shouted in horror.

Your sudden presence was enough to surprise your mom, stopping her from her misdeed. She glanced to you disappointed. "(Y/n) (M/n) (L/n), haven't we taught you not to raise your voice inside."

You clenched your hands to fists, eyeing your already ruined art with fury. "What. Are. You. Doing inside MY room?"

"Grief," your mom tched, "We're cleaning up of course."

"Why would you do so cruel a thing?!" you asked. "Stop!!!"

Instead of listening your mom turned your sketchbook into pieces. Your heart cracked painfully, but instead of giving in, you ran over to your dad who was attempting to halve some of your newest printed pictures.

"Dad! Stop! Please!" You made a move to take them out of his hands, but since he was higher than you, he simply held them over your head out of your reach.

"Recently you've been very rebellious (Y/n). Your mother and I have applied you to a privat-school overseas, where you hopefully will learn to behave as a true lady," your dad explained, before letting shreds from the pictures rain down on you.

"And who gave you permission?" you protested panicked.

Instead of trying to take out what they had in their hands, you tackled the situation on a new way and tried to block the way to your others things, which only caused irritation from your parents. When your mom tried to snatch a photo-album, you without caring for the future, slapped her hand angry away 

She held her hand close, glaring to you. "Don't be ridiculous. You're a child. We don't need your permission to know what's best for you."

"Well, I'm not going and you can'r make me!" you insisted and slapped the approaching hand away once again. "I actually have a life here! I won't let your stupid expectations take it."

Of course the third time never go as planned. Before you could stop your mom's grasping hands, your dad took you ny the arm and dragged you out of the way letting your mom do what she pleased. You did your best to escape his hands, but it didn't go your way and in the end it already were too late.

The pieces, when your mom had finished her doings, scattered across the floor only filling your body with even more harm. You were mad, but not sad. After have experienced the first and second time op your room being ripped apart, you had learned your lesson: Always keep your most beloved thing out of sight.

Thanks to that lesson you had gathered all your most important things underneath your bed and your drawers, safe from strangers harming doings. Unfortunately you however last night had been reading in a really rare comic-book Mikey somehow had gotten his hands in and for the time being entrusted in your care. Careless you in the morning had forgotten to hide it away and now it was displayed at your nightstand.

Obviously your luck weren't with you and your mom had noticed it simultaneously with you. She made a move to take it. A jolt of fear electrocuted through your body. For everything you cared, you couldn't let so rare a example Mikey had trusted you enough to borrow, go to pieces. 

You tackled your dad by kicking his calf, making him let go of you. Then you stormed out of his reach and ran over to the bedside, trying to snap it out of your mother's hands even though she kept pushing you back.

"Stop acting like a kangaroo," your mom ordered.

"Not before you give me that! You can't shred it! It's important!"

"It's a book with cartoons. Get yourself together." You begged, shouted and cried, but she didn't listen. In under a second the comic went from one book to thousand bits. You were handed the pieces, leaving you only able to stare at the remainings. "A lady doesn't act like..."

"Get out," you interrupted almost gasping for air.

"Excuse me?"

"I said: GET OUT!!!" you screamed. Too startled by your outburst, you managed to kick both adults out of your room and slam the door behind them. Tearfully your scream continued. "I WISH I WAS ORPHANED!"

More didn't you say as you marched to your bed and placed the puzzle of paperparts on the sheets, mourning the surely ripped trust had to you.

Even feeling miserable you didn't miss the sound of your window open and steps of heavy Turtle approaching. You shielded with your arms the ripped comic-book away from MIkey's view when he went to comfort you.

You didn't ask why he was there and neither did you give a reason for your tears, but much likely MIkey could make a assumption by the condition of the rest of your room.

You hugged tightly what we're shielding and sobbed. "I want to leave... T-To never come b-back."

Mikey tightened his embrace soothing. Barely hesitating you felt your body being gently pulled towards the window. "C'mom. Let's go."

You weren't exactly defined of where he meant, but you nodded. You lifted yourself bsck to your feet, making sure not to reveal the shreds.

You hid the fragments in your pocket, before you let MIkey guide you out of the window down to the streets, asking no questions to why you kept your hand as cover to your pocket.

Somehow you had to reveal your secret one day, but not tonight. Right now all there counted was to keep running.