[TMNT] Torn Hearts: Part 1.6 - Balloons

And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
       ~Khalil Gibran

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"The two have been separated by a great distance," the leader commented quietly.

"What shall we do now? Why did we not see this coming?" the doubtful gave his input.

"You know that I can only see limitedly into the future," the wise replied.

"Yes, if you had more power we would not have been over thrown in the first place," the doubtful gave a hot word back.

"If I could see any more than I do then you know that we would control the world like a puppet and not rule it." The wise kept his temper.

"We don't even rule it anymore, if you haven't noticed," the doubtful raised his voice, but he was met by just an airy silence.

"So what did you see?" The peacekeeper asked gently, speaking to the wise.

"I did see that there was some obstacle coming into play but I supposed that it was what we thought it would be from the beginning," the wise said shamefully.

"Well, we could have done nothing of it. Just because we see does not mean that we can manipulate, especially if we do not know what the problem is yet," the peacekeeper spoke to the others.

"True," the doubtful sighed.

"But I do see something else," the wise brightened.

"What?" the leader spoke with excitement.

"Something brighter is coming through the way for us. I cannot tell what, as you know, but it is good and I know that," the wise spoke out for everyone.

"We must hope that it will drastically benefit us, because I am afraid all we have left is our connection with Maysa which is of no help at the present," the leader spoke.

A murmur of agreement came across the others.

"What if it doesn't? What if our plan is a failure?" the uninvited began to sound more like the doubtful.

"Still, we must try to come back. If we simply sit back we are failures then."

"Then what are we now?"

"Simply put: prisoners to our own dethronement."

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The next night, Cally was sitting on her new bed, fiddling with the flashlight, turning it in her hands. Emptiness crept up and filled her chest creating an almost hallow feeling. When people lose something, a void is created in the soul. It's felt within the mind and it will stay that way until something else fills it or we bury it. But some things are easier to bury than others.

It had been a long car ride; a really, really long car ride. Cally walked over to her window and opened it. It was an odd window almost like two windows put together. Each had a handle on it and could be swung open like double doors. It was a fitting window for the two story ranch house - well, if a bonus room counted as a second story. The house was a bright yellow, the shade that brightens a rainy day that beautifully contrasted against the green world around her and matched the sky during the daytime in any kind of weather.

The bonus room was Cally's so it was easy for her to see the landscape. The house sat in a clearing of grass with a driveway that led up to the garage that sat rather to the left of the house. Trees surrounded the house like a wall against the outside world and drops and rises in the land around the surrounding areas created slopes- the kind that attract sleds and children during a good snow.

However, Cally didn't care about the beauty like she normally would have. She was too concerned about her missing friend. A tear ran down her cheek as she looked over her new surroundings. Her drive way that led deeper into the temporary terrors of the forest was the only sign of hope for her.

Her mother was a baker, but not in the city. Same with her father, the sheriff. A small town – Hikeshire - grew about ten miles away where both her parents worked during the day. Both had taken the day off that day to help Cally settle in so she hadn't seen it yet, but her mom told that she would being going to work when she did. Cally was promised to make lots of friends. And maybe she would, since they didn't know her history; but Cally didn't want other friends, she wanted hers. It was like a picky child that lost their balloon; but they don't want just any balloon, they want theirs.

Cally's parents also helped her decorate her room. They had bought lots of paint cans with all different colors so that Cally could choose which she wanted to have her room painted.

She chose red.

Her mother had smiled and said like roses, but that wasn't why Cally chose the color red. They hadn't painted her room yet because if they did Cally wouldn't be able to sleep in it.

Her room was a rectangle with the window in the middle of the front wall, one of the long walls, facing the front wall and over the front porch roof to where if one wanted, they could climb out the window and lay there to see the millions of stars that painted the solid black sky or watch the clouds on a clear day. Her bed sat the right of the window and shelves lined the walls that would be filled with stuffed animals that her parents had bought for her after the room was painted. But some of them were meant to go to their own child that was never born. Books of pictures and chapters decorated a tall bookshelf. And a toy box sat in a corner. For now, it was rather plain but her parents promised more.
Cally was her new parent's filling for the void made by their unborn child. After its death, her mother was no longer able to have children which scarred bother her parents.

It was a scar that would not heal, but could be helped. They loved Cally with a parent's love and the love that had been meant for their real child.

Cally remembered her promise. How could she not? One doesn't forget about something when they think about what it was based around. Her promise was based around Raphael and that was exactly who she was thinking of so Cally held up a flashlight that sat her hand. She pointed it at the trees and turned it on and five seconds passed, then she turned it off.
Two more times of doing this and Cally burst into tears. She bent her head into her folded arms and broke down.

When people cry, their minds slur, but emotions become sharp. It's a mix of being drunk and high at the same time but the body is still under control and thoughts are dysfunctional. The problem is strangled and twisted as tears come with anger, confusion, or just simply more misery. For Cally, it was more misery. Her thoughts were dysfunctional, wishing she hadn't been adopted, wishing that she was still at the orphanage, but if all these came true they would be begged to be taken back. She couldn't have her cake and eat it too, no matter how badly she wanted to. That's the issue with us. We think we can have this and more but the truth is that a lot of life is either or.

Cally's grip on the flashlight loosened and it escaped her hand. The flashlight rolled down the rough black shingles of the small front porch roof and landed with a "klunk" into the gutter that ran the length of the roof. Cally looked up and at the flashlight with a frown, tears still pouring out of her dark green eyes and onto her rather pale skin. The skin around her eyes was red and puffy and her breathing came in sniffs as her crying slowly subsided.

Why?

"I'm sorry!" She cried out, wishing the wind could carry her message into the city.

Though the wind should be able to, should it not? It carries things so much heavier than our words. And perhaps it does and we just don't hear it, perhaps the wind separates our message too badly for anyone to hear it. But the trees instead echoed her words back to her like a mailman returning a letter that couldn't make it.

Raphael's words echoed in her head. "Do it every night?"

Cally had a promise to keep and she couldn't do it if the flashlight stayed in the gutter and instead of getting it in the morning, she decided to get it right then. She crossed her heart with her finger.

"I'll miss you," Cally whispered this time so that it couldn't be returned and even though the message couldn't be heard by living ears, it was out there.

Cally slipped out to sit on the window sill with her legs hanging out and her feet on the black shingles. Slowly and cautiously, she slipped out the window onto the roof. She turned to face downward, a dangerous position but at least the shingles gave some friction. The shingles were rough and scraped her hands every time she slid them down the slant but Cally was afraid she would fall if she lifted her hands from the surface. Luckily, she was wearing pajama pants so her legs were protected. And even though it was nighttime, the heat of the summer day still seethed from the shingles.

When Cally was arm's length away from the flashlight she grabbed out and snatched it. Turning around, Cally climbed back up the slant of the roof and got back to the window sill. She was feeling a bit better, more optimistic through a child's view. Cally presumed that her parents couldn't keep her here. She could ride her new blue bike that was waiting for her in the garage to New York City and she would visit Raphael and come home before her parents noticed. Cally was a child and children sometimes suppose that their plans of pure imagination can in fact become true whether its fighting dragons in a tree or riding a cardboard rocket to the moon.

Cally grabbed the window sill and with confidence stood up on her feet. A mistake it was, and Cally lost balance and tried to adjust herself, but it did nothing and she toppled backwards, rolling down and off the roof. The fall took her stomach and she desperately reached for the gutter. Cally's fingers skimmed it but did not manage to grasp the edge. A searing pain instantly whipped through her body as she hit the ground. Darkness flooded her mental state, and it ended with a question: Will I ever see Raph again?