So, this was simply an idea I needed to get on paper. Thus, it’s a Flash Fiction for now. Let me know if you want me to expand it
Her visit was strictly rational. Logical.
The turtles were used to her being in her shop. They would drop in at off hours—sometimes for a chat, to get out of the rain or just because they wanted to. Last thing she needed was a group of four trained ninja brothers creaking out because they couldn't find their ‘sister.’
She clamped down at the word. Ground her teeth. Not here. Not now. Time for that later. After the trip. After the arrangements. After the…service.
“Hey, Ape! Ooo, did you bring snacks?”
She wordlessly handed her pile of bags to Mikey as he rushed over. Stay firm. Keep it together. Just…tell them and go so you can get the mess over with.
The orange banded face was suddenly in her vision, all but blocking her sight. But the playfulness had left his face. The bags lay forgotten on the floor. In fact, he almost looked like Leo, scrutinizing her expression.
What's wrong? What's wrong? I got the worst phone call I could ever get last night. That's why I'm here, to ask you guys to watch my shop for me. Cause I have to go and bury my sister.
That's what she wanted to say. It was direct but covered everything she had to convey. But as much as she wanted to, her tongue was ash in her mouth.
“Oh, April’s here!” Don’s voice.
“Yo, April, long time, where you been?” Raph
“Give her some space guys,” Leo.
Mikey was in her face again, that worried look he didn't use often so it was extremely effective when he did. “April,” he repeated. “What’s the matter?”
The nonchalance left the other three like they were doused with water. In flips and leaps, they were up by their youngest brother’s side, staring at her.
“April?” Almost a chorus they were. “What is it?”
“Ya need me to go clobber someone?”
“My…” Her voice caught. “Call this morning. Robin. My sister. There was…a car crash and….”
Words lost all meaning and the tears tore from her throat like a virus. Her whole body shook. The four faces in front of her blurred into a mix of green, blue, red, violet and orange.
“She's…she’s dead. My sister’s dead!”
Saying it…she didn't want to say it. Saying it made it real. But now that it was out, her cries became rapid. Sharo, unfiltered, more screams and screeches than anything truly meant to be speech.
And warm arms embraced her. Held her close, her head pressed against a shoulder. She took advantage, buried her face and screamed out the unfairness of it all.
Someone stroked her hair back. Someone else rubbed her back. She heard the distinct sound of hot tea being made and somehow she went from standing to being all but smothered by a sea of limbs on the couch.
And all of them said the same thing without saying anything at all:
2087
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
dailybridgerton
