Echos-in-the-Shadows

Misfortune “Mikey...” A voice echoed through the quiet darkness. “Mikey...? MIKEY!” The darkness around Mikey broke and he opened his eyes to find himself lying in his bed. The source of the voice was his older brother, Donatello, who was standing over him looking ever so impatient. Mikey yawned. “Good morning, Donnie.” “Mikey, I've been trying to get you up for the last half hour,” Donnie scolded. “Sensei is waiting. You have to get up now.” Mikey felt an uneasiness in his stomach and a mild throbbing in his skull. He groaned. “Donnie, I don't know if I can do any learn

Holiday “Daddy...” Leo quietly tried to get his father's attention. Splinter sat in his dojo meditating, having given his sons the afternoon off from learning, it being a Saturday. He had sent them into the living room to watch cartoons, hoping that it'd give him a few hours peace. “Daddy...?” His ears twitched, trying not to acknowledge the child. Maybe then he would return to watching cartoons. Not so; Leo crawled into his lap and poked his nose. “Psst, Daddy?” his voice got a little louder. Splinter sighed and finally opened his eyes. “What is it, Leonardo?” His four-year-old son gazed

Silence “Ow, Raphie! Waaah!” Splinter's peaceful meditation session was shattered by the sound of a screaming Michelangelo. He sighed and began the countdown. “three...two...one...” “Da-a-d-y-y-y!” Michelangelo burst through the dojo's entrance, sobbing and holding onto his arm. “What happened, Michelangelo?” “Raphie...” He began, but stopped to catch a breath. “R-raphie...he h-hit me...” Raph burst through the entrance. “He's lying!” “N-nuh-uh! Daddy h-he hit me!” “Boys, enough!” Splinter's voice rose as he came to his feet.

Turtles Mikey and Donnie sat cross-legged across from each other on their bedroom floor. Splinter had told Donnie to help tutor Michelangelo so that he could read and understand his letters better. Donnie flipped through his hardback alphabet book, reminding himself to pay particularly close attention to the letters that Mikey seemed to have trouble with. He flipped to the letter “B” first. “Okay, Mikey, what is this letter?” Mikey giggled. “That kinda looks like a butt.” Donnie sighed. “No, Mikey...” an idea dawned upon him, “...actually, we could work with that. What is the beginnin

Light Donatello's eyes cracked open to meet with the pitch late night darkness of his room. He sighed. It was yet another night of wakeful sleeping. He rolled on his side to see his youngest brother, Mikey, lying on his back next to him and snoring lightly. “No wonder I can't stay asleep,” He thought. He groaned and rolled over on his stomach. Maybe a change in position could help him get to sleep. He shut his eyes and snuggled as close to his blankets as his flesh would allow. After several minutes of shifting and readjusting, Donnie still had no luck getting back to sleep. He glanced out of his open door and saw it again: a

Dark There once was a bitter old man. He lived alone in his old farmhouse long after his wife had passed. “How did she die?” Mikey asked. “What?” Raph snapped. “How did his wife die?” he innocently asked again. The four brothers sat on their blankets in a circle. They had made a tent in their living room out of extra linens and after hours of begging and pouting, Splinter had agreed to allow them to keep their tent up and camp out in it for one night only. “How am I supposed to know how she died?” Raph growled. “Well it's your story!” Mikey argued. “Mikey, shoosh!&rdquo

Smile Donatello sat working diligently on a puzzle. It was a five-hundred piece puzzle that Splinter had found for him while scavenging a day ago. Donnie hadn't stopped working on it since, except to sleep, eat, or learn or train. “Whatcha doin', Donnie?” Mikey asked, sitting in front of the half-way done puzzle. Donnie didn't look up. “Same thing I was doing twenty minutes ago when you asked that,” he mumbled. “Pfft, puzzles are so boring!” Mikey said. “You should come play hide-and-seek with me or something.” “Not now, Mikey, I want to finish my puzzle.” Mikey pouted. “

Intro The four four-year-old turtles sat in a circle around their father in his dojo. Leonardo, the oldest, patiently sat Indian-style, his hands folded perfectly in his lap. To the left of him sat Raphael, who slouched and yawned, daydreaming about returning to his bed. Next to the bored and drowsy Raph sat Donatello, who was fully awake and eagerly awaiting the lessons his father would be teaching that day.  And next to Donnie sat Michelangelo who was lying on his stomach playing with the loose threads in the rug beneath him. Splinter sighed. “Michelangelo, please sit up.” Mikey obeyed, but continued to play with the threads

Under the Stars “Raphael, come now,” Splinter urged, “put the toy down. It will be there in the morning. It is bed time now.” Splinter stood over the cot that his four three-year-old boys shared, holding the blanket back and waiting for his toddlers to get under it so he could wrap them up snugly. Raph pouted. “But brothers not in bed.” “They are about to be. Michelangelo had to use the potty, Donatello is brushing his teeth, and Leonardo is finding a story for me to read to you,” Splinter said and patted a hand on the cot, gesturing for the feisty little one to get into the bed. Raph groan

Abandoned Splinter could not believe what had just happened. One of the most despicable and appalling things he believed that a parent could do, he had just done to his youngest son. What was he thinking? Michelangelo was only three-years-old and knew nothing of his former family. How could he have possibly known better? The whole thing made Splinter nauseous. “D-daddy?” A small shaky voice broke his thoughts. He hoped it was Michelangelo, but much to his disappointment, it was Leonardo. “Was all da noise? I heard screamin' an' you yellin', an' why you sittin' on da floor?” Splinter shook his head. “Everything