Sunshine Boy by The Creepy-Psycho-Loner

AN: How did I do writing from Don's POV? Is he in character?

"This is the way the world ends.

Not with a bang but a whimper." T.S. Eliot

Don

I miss him more than anything. More than a starving man misses a meal. Or someone misses a friend from childhood. I miss him more than I miss myself. It's a deep psychological pain, never leaving, only ever ebbing into a physical heartbreak. I remember him so very distinctly... I always will... like I could sculpt him blindfolded, even down to his big toe we used to always tease him about (being as it was a bit bigger than normal). I would never forget his features when he smiled, the way his eyes seemed bluer but also bright like yellow. Maybe it was the orange of his mask.

Maybe it was that he could bend perception with the way he twirled his nunchucks. They always went so fast and fast, just like him. He went so fast out the door that he bent perception and he went so fast so young that I want to refuse to believe that in the first place. But that'd be ignorant. He's never here. It's devilishly reminded day by day by day by day and every night. But it's not like we even go to sleep. I'm too afraid to see him and then he'd disappear again. Faster and faster with each time.

In relation of speediness, the hyperactivity of him is something I crave the most. My lab is quiet, quiet, quiet and dead inside. Not even a key type noise. Not even a nail scratching. I barely even breathe anymore, let alone find any enthusiasm in my life. Enthusiasm was Mikey's company. I was merely an employee.

I always admired that about Mikey. The way he was so happy to just be. Leo, Raph and I complained about all and it's fairness but Mikey dedicated his life to the positive. No matter what. He was so adamant and persistent on keeping me out my lab so I can just be too and I even started to like NOT being in my lab.

Now I seek permanent refuge in my lab. It's a piteous escape but I just can't stand being out of the lab to see my brothers. I can't. I cant stand the hurt, the deep and real hurt, especially in Leo. Especially in Raph. Especially in my old father. Especially in myself. I seek refuge in my lab but it's nowhere I want to be. I can't stay in there without fidgeting, each day hoping and praying and begging that Mikey would burst through it and knock something over. I hope one day he finally comes home and breaks something I've worked weeks on. I hope he comes in and yells on high while I'm doing delicate lab experiments that require precise concentration. I hope he yells at me for being such an idiot. Wasn't I supposed to be smart, Mikey? I'm hoping for dumb things. Dumb things that I swear that dumb wishes could bring back. Is that why it's been over a year, Michelangelo? Because smart brother is such a imbecile? I can't stop the self hatred and I feel like a fraud in my own body...

Like am I even entitled to be upset with myself? Mikey told me, and told me, and told me that I'll love him when he's dead. I never listened, thought it was a joke, because he'd never die because he's immortal. I never appreciated him the way I should've. He was there for me when I wasn't there for myself. He was my best friend and he knew things on levels of emotions that I was not in tune with. I should've appreciated him more, because maybe I would have gotten red flags in my head when he was especially in tune with depression. Or with pain. Or with loneliness.

There are no mirrors in my lab to remind me that I'm a carcass of a tainted soul; A monster. My eyes are always red like one. My stomach growls like the way it feeds off the favors of others. A monster who takes people for granted.

My mask always lay dormant beside me, never to be worn again. Shame. I always think to burn it but I can't handle seeing anyone if I dared leave the lab. So I neatly stay tucked in my crepuscular prison cell, surrounded by four walls of regret.

Michelangelo. Mikey boy. Mikester. Mike. Sunshine boy. Laughing, laughing, to hardly a whisper. Green faces turn greyish brown from despair. It's not even quiet without him; it's mute.

I remember that last hug I gave him was three days before, the last I love you was two days before, the last I hate you was one day before... Then vanish. 455 days. No trace. No note.

The worst of all the worst has to be the fact that we don't know when he'll walk back home...

Or if he ever would...

The anxiety of the mystery drives us up the wall. But never his wall. We can't go in there. Not now. Never ever.

We don't even dare to touch his doorknob.

We can't eat pizza. Or watch television. Or smile. Or fight. Or move. Everything is so painfully filled with memories of him... Should we burry those memories or savor them? Should we kill ourselves or use this as perseverance? Should we never heal or act like we did?

It was an argument, a heated stupid and painful argument that cost me more than I could ever replace. What do I do? Do I leave too?

Mikey if you can read my thoughts, I hope you believe me when I say I am sorry. I always will be. I love you. What happened that day does not and never will reflect my feelings towards you. You're my brother, my best friend, a super hero. You were the pillar to me but now I'm fallen and my damage is irrevocable.

I swear I have learned my lesson. Come home.

Please?

End