Raph's Nightmares

Fresh Air

I know it's been my own scream what has woken me up. I know because I still feel my throat sore and my pupils are slowly adjusting to the dim light of the corridor that breaks into my room through the tiny window of the door. I'm about to cry for Spike but I refrain the impulse just in time; the small fellow isn't going to answer. His absence burns in my chest like a flame. I burrow in bed and try not to think, but the last echoes of the nightmare keep me awake, perhaps too awake. Leo was on the floor in Donnie's lab. His stare blank, his tongue showing. No pulse, no breathe, no life. He was cold and stiff and no matter how many times I tried to shake him awake, he wouldn't answer back. The ominous tone in Donnie's voice came echoing from the dreams' realm to give me goose bumps once again.

"Let him go, Raph. He's dead. Dead".

The weigh of the word is bouncing on the walls and hitting me all over again. I can't stand it anymore. I throw the blanket aside and get up, pick up my bandana and get out of the suffocating room. The walls of the lair seem to be closing in, and I can hardly breathe. I long for fresh air, for a good race on the roof tops, for a fight. A good fight. One of those you seem to be losing till the very last second. One of those that make you do your best, better yourself and leave the taste of victory somehow imprinted in your fingertips, in your skin and your shell. You take victrory in, chew it, swallow it, it becomes part of your blood stream. I secure my sais in my belt and head for the exit. I still have a couple of hours till sunrise. I could use a bit of exercise, it will help me clear my mind and meditate. I need an answer. I need the nightmares to go away. I need to be alone for a while. My hand hasn't reached the turnstile when I hear Leo cough. I hesitate just for a heartbeat, and I hear him again. I must take a look.His door is ajar, but I still knock to warn him of my presence.

"Leo?"There is no answer."Leo? Do you need anything?"

"You to leave".

It takes me off guard. I can just tell where he is by his shade, I'm blocking the light and there is not enough to make out his silhouette.

"Fine!" I yell, I don't care whether I wake the whole lair up. It serves me well, I should have fled when I had it in mind. New York's air is cool and gentle. It's mid February and it's being a hard winter, but there is no trace of snow. All the better, since I hate snow. It makes me feel unsafe to run on the roof tops not knowing when you are going to be diverted by some hidden ice pond. I prefer it this way. A bit too cold when the night is dying, but OK when the sun has just set. Casey is waiting for me at the top of the Neerily highrise, even though I haven't texted him. I get a sudden feeling that this is one of his strange habits, and the realization that we share a favorite place in the city makes me smile. He's a strange guy, this Casey Jones. Too mature for a teenager, but also too childish. It's hard to tell what I like about him, since he is a complete disaster and his emotions are usually all messed up. But he is pretty straight forward, and I appreciate honesty, especially when it comes to friends. Besides he is going through hard times, even though he disguises everything behind that mask of his, and I'm not only talking about his hockey mask. He is a bit like me, I guess, not trusting other people easily and keeping personal stuff secured and away. My first reaction was to attack him from behind, tackle him and make him scream. But I'm too worried for that, maybe. I just lean on the edge just like him, and he doesn't look at me to mutter a "hi". My response is only a shrug.