The Words That Hurt Me

Eleven Seconds of Panic

Mikey dropped his device, slapping the sides of his face.

He was screwed.

What were they going to say? Were they going to tell him he looks like a freak? Were they going to post his photo online? Were they going to get him and his brothers captured?

What if they already knew he was a mutant and was just waiting until he slipped up? What if they were working with Bradford?

He squeezed his eyes shut.

First, breath. The turtle forced his breathing to slow, calming his frayed nerves.

The turtle slowly opened his eyes, glancing down at the pinging device. He could see message after message appear on the screen, some filled with way too many question marks.

His hand trembled as he reached for his phone.

GrtBonk: that's not the schedule
11:57 p.m.
What is that?
Shrek?
Is that an ice-cream statue?
It's a selfie
11:58 p.m.
Hey???
Are you there?
I can see you reading these
What's happening?
????????
11:59 p.m.

GrtBonk: it kind of looks like a frog
Is that you lol
12:00 a.m.
Wait could it really be?
Is that actually you????
Akdkcidodbkd
No way
12:01 a.m.
Hey talk to me
We can talk I promise
It's okay I swear I'm not dangerous
Don't leave.
12:02 a.m.
Buddy?
12:03 a.m.

The messages stopped there, a few minutes having passed from then. The turtle chewed his lip, tears poking at his eyes. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? Could they really be trusted? Would this just be Bradford all over again?

Ping!

Mikey looked down. Slowly, more messages appeared, both soothing and frightening the mutant.

GrtBonk: Are you there?
Don't leave me okay?
I don't know what's going on right now, but I don't want you to just stop talking to me
12:07 a.m.
I'm gonna start a video call
Pls answer
You don't have to have the camera on, okay?
12:08 a.m.

Mikey's lip trembled as he tried not to cry. While GB had not indicated that they couldn't be trusted, the turtle wasn't sure what to do.

Painful memories resurfaced, ones colored with betrayal and manipulation. Being taken advantage of in his most naive and vulnerable state, when he was willing to trust so easily.

'You really think I can be friends with a freak like you?'

He learned his lesson then and he learned it well. Of course, he had grown since then, he knew how to be careful. The turtle learned how to judge a character and when to follow his instincts. He got some of the best friends he ever could wish for with this skill.

Leatherhead included.

He didn't want to lose another friend, especially one he's already shared so much with. All he could do was hope that this was okay.

His fingers shook as he tapped at the keys.

PIZZATURTLE15: okay.
12:10 a.m.

He nearly dropped his phone when it started to ring, startled by the sudden  noise in his silent room. Cautiously, he accepted the call.

Immediately the screen view shifted to a face. It was a little boxy, slightly chubby, acne littered over their cheeks and forehead. The hair on one eyebrow was slightly misshapen, apparently from a tiny scar that lied in it from an accident when they were young.

The side of their head was clipped short, that patch wrapping from one side to the other, the longer part that rested on top of their head confined in a bun. The color was almost as dark as their eyes, staring at what must have been a black screen for them.