Chapter 1 - A Daughter's Promise
Submitted April 3, 2005 Updated April 9, 2005 Status Incomplete | What makes a hero exactly? And how did the fifth turtle begin her quest to the City.
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Chapter 1 - A Daughter's Promise
Chapter 1 - A Daughter's Promise
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Disclaimer: Most if not all the characters in this story do not belong to me, most if not allbelong to Mirage comics and other people who are not me.
*note: this story takes place in no official continuity other than the continuity in my prettylittle noggin.
A Daughter’s Promise
What exactly makes a hero? Is it the amount of lives that person touches in theirlifetimes? Is it possible that a hero can be someone who you never read about, someone who hasnever had a Lifetime movie, someone who just helped a person no one else could? If that’s sothen it’s possible to believe that there is a hero in everyone of us, and that’s just a nice thought.
The first thing I remember in the smell, it was terrible. I was crawling through it, itcovered me head to toe, the filth all over me. Then there was a harsh light from above me, it wascold and empty. I was scared, and didn’t know where I was, or how I’d gotten there. I justcurled up in the filth and cried til I could cry no more tears.
I fell asleep, awoken by a different light, it was warm and alive. In the distance I heard anoise, something I couldn’t believe I’d heard last night. Following the sound I came to anopening and in front of me was a large body of water rushing from where I was standing. Fromthe opening I saw that light that had washed over me, the warm light. It was blinding and at thesame time beautiful. Only a child, my curiosity made me want to go out into the blinding light,stepping out I felt the ground beneath me, it was soft and inviting not cold and harsh like theground I came from, I just walked across it slowly feeling it between my toes and lay down, thelight washing over me.
Not far away I heard what sounded like sniffling and crying. Approaching the noise Istayed hidden the best I could. The thing in front of me was different than I was. It had whiteskin, long black hair, and five fingers on it’s hands. In it’s eyes were tears, it wiped them awaybut more came.
Why was this thing sad? Was it lost like I was? I wanted to know, but stayed away for alittle longer. I just watched it and it continued to cry, finally I had to get closer to it. Slowlymoving forward I tried not to make too much noise, but it looked directly at me. In it’s eyes Isaw surprise, scare, bewilderment, and awe. It quit crying as it got closer to me, I moved back,tripping and falling over. It reached down with it’s hands and I curled up tightly.
The thing in front of me then made a noise from it’s mouth. I could not understand thenoise, but I was not scared anymore. The sound comforted me, and I reached out to the handstrying to reach for me. It lifted me from the ground and then walked away carrying me, I fellasleep in it’s arms.
Years pass I no longer am the lost child I once was, I have grown to a young teen. The itthat found me, I now call mother, she gave me the name MeiPeiChi, but calls me Angel, short forAngel of Life. She says I saved her that day, she had lost someone very dear to her and wasgoing to end her life to join with that person again. She saw I was not human, but I was a childand she would not leave a child as “unique” as I alone. We now live in small apartment where Iam schooled by my mother not only in regular school subjects, but healing as well. She told methat her mother was once a great healer in their home country of China, before they came toAmerica. Though mother was a healer in her own right, she is a nurse, the one person she cannotheal is herself. She tells me she’ll be fine, and that I should not worry. Yeah right, me notworry.
Recently she has been in the hospital, and I have trouble visiting her, she tells me mostpeople would not understand me, that I would be captured and taken away from her forever. Soas my mother lies in the hospital, I sit in our home...not worrying. There are times I am able toget to her, but they are few and far between. She has told me on those occasions that she hasheard of others like me in the city, that if anything happens to her that I should go there and seekthem out. I promise that I will, but my mother will never die, she’ll get better and we’ll be afamily again I just know it. I just know it. Everything will be okay. Sitting there I drift into asleep.
The phone rings, it’s 1:00 am. No one calls at this hour. On the line a voice comes over,my eyes fill with tears, why couldn’t I have been there, this can’t be right everything wassupposed to be okay, I just knew it. I guess sometimes plans don’t pan out, sometimes thingsaren’t okay.
The thing with white skin, long black hair, five fingers, and tears in it’s eyes is no more. This person, my mother, my hero, was gone. I have nothing but fond memories of the womanwho took me in when others would’ve turned away or sent me to be studied, she’s one of thegreatest heroes I’ll ever know. She won’t be remembered by many, there will not be a greathero’s burial for her, she was gone and soon to be forgotten, but never by me...never by me.
I had a promise to keep, I would go to the city I would find the others if they exist.
The first thing I remember is the smell, it was terrible. I was walking in it, it covered me.
Yet this is where my old life began, it seems only fair that this is where my new life would begin. The ground is hard and cold, and I have a long way to go. I guess I better begin.....
End?
Disclaimer: Most if not all the characters in this story do not belong to me, most if not allbelong to Mirage comics and other people who are not me.
*note: this story takes place in no official continuity other than the continuity in my prettylittle noggin.
A Daughter’s Promise
What exactly makes a hero? Is it the amount of lives that person touches in theirlifetimes? Is it possible that a hero can be someone who you never read about, someone who hasnever had a Lifetime movie, someone who just helped a person no one else could? If that’s sothen it’s possible to believe that there is a hero in everyone of us, and that’s just a nice thought.
The first thing I remember in the smell, it was terrible. I was crawling through it, itcovered me head to toe, the filth all over me. Then there was a harsh light from above me, it wascold and empty. I was scared, and didn’t know where I was, or how I’d gotten there. I justcurled up in the filth and cried til I could cry no more tears.
I fell asleep, awoken by a different light, it was warm and alive. In the distance I heard anoise, something I couldn’t believe I’d heard last night. Following the sound I came to anopening and in front of me was a large body of water rushing from where I was standing. Fromthe opening I saw that light that had washed over me, the warm light. It was blinding and at thesame time beautiful. Only a child, my curiosity made me want to go out into the blinding light,stepping out I felt the ground beneath me, it was soft and inviting not cold and harsh like theground I came from, I just walked across it slowly feeling it between my toes and lay down, thelight washing over me.
Not far away I heard what sounded like sniffling and crying. Approaching the noise Istayed hidden the best I could. The thing in front of me was different than I was. It had whiteskin, long black hair, and five fingers on it’s hands. In it’s eyes were tears, it wiped them awaybut more came.
Why was this thing sad? Was it lost like I was? I wanted to know, but stayed away for alittle longer. I just watched it and it continued to cry, finally I had to get closer to it. Slowlymoving forward I tried not to make too much noise, but it looked directly at me. In it’s eyes Isaw surprise, scare, bewilderment, and awe. It quit crying as it got closer to me, I moved back,tripping and falling over. It reached down with it’s hands and I curled up tightly.
The thing in front of me then made a noise from it’s mouth. I could not understand thenoise, but I was not scared anymore. The sound comforted me, and I reached out to the handstrying to reach for me. It lifted me from the ground and then walked away carrying me, I fellasleep in it’s arms.
Years pass I no longer am the lost child I once was, I have grown to a young teen. The itthat found me, I now call mother, she gave me the name MeiPeiChi, but calls me Angel, short forAngel of Life. She says I saved her that day, she had lost someone very dear to her and wasgoing to end her life to join with that person again. She saw I was not human, but I was a childand she would not leave a child as “unique” as I alone. We now live in small apartment where Iam schooled by my mother not only in regular school subjects, but healing as well. She told methat her mother was once a great healer in their home country of China, before they came toAmerica. Though mother was a healer in her own right, she is a nurse, the one person she cannotheal is herself. She tells me she’ll be fine, and that I should not worry. Yeah right, me notworry.
Recently she has been in the hospital, and I have trouble visiting her, she tells me mostpeople would not understand me, that I would be captured and taken away from her forever. Soas my mother lies in the hospital, I sit in our home...not worrying. There are times I am able toget to her, but they are few and far between. She has told me on those occasions that she hasheard of others like me in the city, that if anything happens to her that I should go there and seekthem out. I promise that I will, but my mother will never die, she’ll get better and we’ll be afamily again I just know it. I just know it. Everything will be okay. Sitting there I drift into asleep.
The phone rings, it’s 1:00 am. No one calls at this hour. On the line a voice comes over,my eyes fill with tears, why couldn’t I have been there, this can’t be right everything wassupposed to be okay, I just knew it. I guess sometimes plans don’t pan out, sometimes thingsaren’t okay.
The thing with white skin, long black hair, five fingers, and tears in it’s eyes is no more. This person, my mother, my hero, was gone. I have nothing but fond memories of the womanwho took me in when others would’ve turned away or sent me to be studied, she’s one of thegreatest heroes I’ll ever know. She won’t be remembered by many, there will not be a greathero’s burial for her, she was gone and soon to be forgotten, but never by me...never by me.
I had a promise to keep, I would go to the city I would find the others if they exist.
The first thing I remember is the smell, it was terrible. I was walking in it, it covered me.
Yet this is where my old life began, it seems only fair that this is where my new life would begin. The ground is hard and cold, and I have a long way to go. I guess I better begin.....
End?
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