Mikey's Christmas - Contest Entry

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and merriness reverberated throughout the living quarters of the four mutant brothers and their father figure, Master Splinter. Casey and April had decided to stay the night with the diversified family to recollect and create memories of the winter holiday. Three of the brothers were decorating the area with small knick-knacks and tinsel, enjoying the casual conversations they were having. The other brother, Michelangelo, had retreated to the kitchen to prepare the jolly fat man some treats for the endeavours he was about to commence. After all, it would be more challenging to find their Christmas tree in the sewer system.

“Oh man, I’m so excited! I can’t believe Christmas is already here! What are you wishing for, Leo?” the turtle donning an orange headband asked his eldest brother, a glimmer in his eyes as he placed a pan of cookies in the oven - he would remind himself later to avoid the said pastries since Michelangelo hardly knew how to cook.

“Uh, I guess I didn’t really wish for anything. Did you, Mikey?” Leo didn’t want to sound competent, so he simply directed the question back to the hyperactive ninja as he walked around restlessly.

“I asked for a lot of things, but I told him I wasn’t going to demand all of them. But if I got that new skateboard, that would be so cool! And those rocket shoes. Maybe I could wear my rocket shoes with my skateboard!” He then began to soar through the kitchen, pretending to have a pair of rocket shoes on his feet. Leo couldn’t help but smile; he loved to feel the positive energy his brother radiated, like the light of a thousand hot suns before his eyes. It made his chest swell with content and a smile grow on his lips. Even seeing the excited ninja crash into the chair near the table made him chuckle with glee, after all, it was the time to be merry.

“I’m gonna go ask the other dudes what they wished for, so can you watch my cookies for me?” Mikey asked innocently as he brushed himself off. Leonardo didn’t so much as bat an eyelash before Michelangelo tore out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell, calling as he passed, “Thanks!”

Donatello was casually placing the brothers’ oversized socks on a wall, hooking the tips on nails that protruded from the wall for such an occasion. The fuzzy stockings were each labeled with a name of its owner, each written in acrylic paint from when the turtles were much younger. He absentmindedly smiled as he began to remember a few of the first Christmases he was blessed to enjoy.

“Donnie, what are you wishing for Santa to bring?” The turtle sporting the violet headband suddenly jumped in surprise, his thought-bubble poofing into oblivion as his younger brother spoke up from behind him. He then turned on his heel to face the grinning Michelangelo: he couldn’t help but grin back.

“Well, I’ve been working on a few projects and upgrades on the car. I guess some tools would be fine with me,” he beamed happily, deciding it best to play along; he didn’t want to ruin Mikey’s fun. He then began to hang up Raphael’s stocking, getting an idea. “Oh, why don’t you go ask Raph what he wants for Christmas?”

Michelangelo’s eyes lit up as the ever-present smile on his face grew a little larger. “Great idea!” With that, he sped off in search for the final brother for questioning. As Mikey ran up the stairs, skipping every other step, he couldn’t help but think of how perfectly this Christmas was going to be. He knew that Santa had to deliver a load of gifts all over the world in a single night, so he decided to lighten that load with getting a gift for each of his brothers; he just hoped they were good enough.

As the grumpy turtle came into view at the top of the stairs, Mikey waved at his brother. “Hey, Raph! Are you ready for Christmas?” he asked excitedly, squealing softly at the thought. His brother’s eyes turned stone cold, a scowl accompanying the pointed look.

“No, I’m not. Christmas is pointless. You just waste money on each other to get stuff you don’t even want,” he threw his three-digit hands up in the air angrily, his teeth barred. Michelangelo was stunned. He sank back at the sudden outburst and decided it would be best to reason with him.

“But, it’s the time to be compassionate towards others, and to spend time with family. Plus you spend all your money, because Santa br-”

“You still believe in Santa?!” Raphael began to laugh heartily, causing the flabberghasted Mikey to look at him in confusion.

“W-what do-”

“Grow up, Mikey. You’re not a little kid anymore, and people aren’t as nice as you think they are. Holidays aren’t becoming times for families to be together, they’re becoming much more corrupted games. Black Friday is a perfect example!”

Downstairs, Leo had caught the sound of Raphael’s laughter, but he could tell that it wasn’t the merry kind. He moved to the foot of the stairs, looking up at the brothers as they talked. After hearing the end of Raph’s statement, he became worried about Mikey.

“No, families are still together! And Santa still exists, I know he does!” Mikey’s face turned into one of a serious tone, his eyes narrowing.

“Then why don’t you find him, huh, Mikey? Bring him here for all of us to see. A real one, not one standing at the front of a store begging for money,” Raph snapped at the younger brother. Mikey suddenly balled his fists, his eyes narrowing even moreso as he puffed his chest out.

“You know what, I will! I’m going to prove you wrong, Raph!” With that, Mikey began to run down the stairs, skipping every other step. Leo’s eyes widened as he stepped in front of his determined brother, worry in his eyes.

“Wait, Mikey! Don’t-”

“Outta the way, Leo! I got a Santa to find!”

The entire family cried out to Michelangelo as he snatched his skateboard and walked towards the entrance to the “house”, face set in determination. No matter what they told him, no matter how much they begged him not to leave, he still walked out the door, tears forming on the brim of his eyes. He was going to prove his brother wrong, and he wasn’t going to stop until it was done.

~

Mikey ran along the snowy rooftops in the darkness of the night, appearing as nothing more than a speedy shadow dashing across the openness between buildings, only to disappear as quickly as it arrived. His eyes searched the tops, looking for any signs of a sleigh, reindeer, or prints for that matter. If he could just find some kind of proof, even if it was just a small fragment, he would take it.

After about half an hour of searching, he realized he made it to the center of the city, where a prodigious tree sat in the middle, garnished with decorations of every shape and size. It glowed brighter than the stars from all the lights wrapping around it: the streetlamps around it never even lit up. It was a heartwarming sight, especially when he noticed several small children playing in the snow on the sidewalks.

He moved to the edge of the three story building, and sat down with his feet dangling over the edge, his elbows resting on his legs. He watched as the kids threw snowballs at each other, made snow angels, and made snowman fractions the size of a human with their bare hands. Surely Santa would want to be somewhere like this, with cheerful children and Christmas spirit heavy in the atmosphere. Right?  He was beginning to feel that he didn’t want to prove the fact Santa was real to Raphael, but to himself. What if what Raphael said was true? But then, how did so many presents appear every Christmas when everyone was asleep? And all the stories told every year, all with the same information? Surely if the stories were always similar, then there had to be proof, right?

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Mikey noticed a large blotch of red walking down the street, away from the tree and children. Eyes wide, heart pounding, he lept from the building onto a dumpster below, hopping into the ground and sprinting after the jolly man in crimson.

He grew closer, seeing so many details about him. The hat, the big black boots, the too-tight belt around his not-so-slim waist. He could even see fragments of a large, scruffy beard. When he was within arm’s length, Mikey reached out and grabbed the man’s shoulders.

“Excuse me, Santa, I-”

As the man turned around, Mikey noticed something was off...literally. When the man turned, his “beard” was pulled back, revealing small white elastic bands that reached his ears. The man was also fairly young looking, and had thick black brows instead of white. He was also shaking lightly, a smile on his face.

“Santa? You think I’m Santa? I knew my costume was good, but I didn’t think it was that good!” Then the man laughed, and Mikey’s heart broke. The shattered pieces fell like ice into the pits of his stomach, making him sick. Releasing the man, Mikey could feel his eyes stinging suddenly: tears.

He ran as fast as he could. He had to get away. All this time he thought the man was real, but now he realized why Raphael made fun of him every year: how childish could he be? Michelangelo was mad; mad at Raph, and Leo, and Donatello, and everyone who led him on... and himself. But he wasn’t just mad, he was disappointed; he had hoped that maybe there was a little spirit left in him to believe in Santa, but he couldn’t even fathom the thought of such a fraud story. That’s all it was, was a story.

~

“You know, Raph. You didn’t have to be so hard on him.”

“Yeah, we could have let him down easy, but instead you decided to run him off.”

“Well all I can say is that it’s about time he grew up a little!”

Bang

Everyone watched as a dejected Mikey sauntered into the room, his feet dragging on the cold cement flooring, his eyes focused intently on the area below him. It was silent as they watched him make his way up the stairs, only going one at a time, with his skateboard tucked under his arm. His greenish skin looked to have dulled out, losing its warming flare. One step at a time, he climbed a little higher, all eyes on him.

At the top, he paused, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. “You were right, Raph. You were right about everything.” With that, he walked towards his room, disappearing behind his bedroom door.

Leo scowled at Raph, who only crossed his arms over his shell-covered chest and glared right back. Arguing filled the room once more as everyone began to reproach the turtle donning the red bandana. Said turtle would only yell back, creating his own argument as to why he took the actions he did. The uproar slowly grew as the two grew closer, pushing fingers at one another until sparks were practically visible from their eyes.

Until the bedroom door opened once more, revealing Mikey standing with three wrapped boxes in his arms, all wrapped with a bright red paper featuring large white snowflake designs and silver bows. He made his way down the stairs, one at a time, until he was at the foot. His eyes were lifeless, which scared his brothers tremendously.

“It isn’t much, but I wanted to give you each something this year, instead of me being the only one to get the most gifts. You can open them tonight if you like,” he spoke in a monotone voice as he handed out each gift accordingly to its owner. The three brothers looked down at their gifts with dejected eyes, looking back up to see Mikey making his way back up the stairs. Raphael was beginning to feel the guilt.

As they opened their gifts, carefully tearing the paper and saving their bows, they were all astonished. Leonardo was given a medal that read in shaky letters, “World’s Best Biggest Bro”; Donatello received a thin three ringed binder, lightly stuffed with blueprints that looked to be taken from a very intelligent source; and Raphael opened his present to see a small shoebox. As he opened the shoebox, he found a stack of comic books depicting tales of heroics and action (mostly action), as well as a limited edition action figure that belonged to the large pile of comics. Raphael had only a few times heard of the series before him, but he wouldn’t deny the fact that he had often wanted to read it, simply because it had such good ratings.

And now he had it in his palms, thanks to the brother he had just casted off to the side after ripping his heart out through his chest and smashing it into a million pieces. His own heart felt as if it had cracked and collapsed, the realization washing over him like a cold wind. Mikey had gone through so much trouble to make their Christmas a little better, and all Raph did was ruin Mikey’s. With a heavy sigh, he turned towards his brothers and set the box down at his feet before letting his eyes lock with Leo and Donatello’s eyes.

“I hope you’re happy,” were the first words out of Leo’s mouth, accompanied by a pointed glare. Don nodded his head in agreeance, setting his folder down by Raph’s box of comics. The turtle donning the crimson bandana sighed heavily in annoyance.

“I screwed up, I know! But, it’s not the time for me to tuck tail and pout like a little girl; it’s time to right my wrong, and I need you guys to help me. So...will you?” The brothers were a little shell-shocked at how Raph had asked for help: he actually asked instead of demanded! Leo gave him a soft smile, happy that his brother was taking responsibility for his actions, and nodded his head to Raph.

“And you, Donnie?” Raph asked, giving the other brother a pleading look. The turtle nodded as well with a smile. Raph’s face broke out with a contagious grin as his eyes widened at how easily they were willing to help. “Really? Well, let’s get started then! Here’s what I have in mind…”

~

It was currently two in the Christmas morning, and Mikey was still lying dejected in his bed, the blankets doing little to warm his shivering body. He usually left the door to his room open for that reason alone, but his door had been shut long enough to cause the cold to garner in the darkness. He hadn’t heard anything of his brothers yet, so he assumed they had fallen asleep some time ago. If only he had done the same.

Mikey jolted upright from under his covers when he heard the sound of something crashing onto the ground, like a chair or a pan. Curious, he threw his covers off and jumped feet-first into the sea of frigid air that he called his room and made his way to the door. His fingers gripped the doorknob, his mind running through all possibilities of what the intruder could be: a burglar, a thug, an assassin, Shredder….he silently wished for it to only be a burglar.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his hand twisted at the wrist, effectively opening the door. Calmly, he opened the door at snail’s pace, eyes scanning every surface that was being revealed as the door opened. When the frame was open enough for him to slip by, he did, nunchaku in hand. His eyes once again flashed from side to side, seeing nothing, until they stopped at the Christmas tree below. It was no burglar, in fact, whoever it was was actually giving instead of taking.

Mikey recognized the furry red coat, the big black boots, the too-tight belt, and the scruffy beard that cascaded down the man’s face.

“Santa?”

The man froze instantly, straightening his back out, which happened to be facing Mikey. Said turtle couldn’t see the man’s face, but he could recognize the man’s features anywhere. Suddenly, the man grabbed the large burlap sack, threw it over his shoulder, and sped off to the exit. Mikey gasped and chased after the man, leaping from the staircase and pursuing him. As he turned a corner, he saw the door to the sewer slam shut.

As Mikey thrusted the door open, he saw no sign of the jolly fat man anywhere to be found, not even the sound of his heavy boots. Bewildered, Mikey couldn’t believe what he had just seen, but at the same time, he was excited and felt victorious. He was right all along, and Raph didn’t know what he was talking about all this time.

~

“Raph! Leo! Donnie! You guys have to wake up and see what Santa brought!”

“Santa?”

“Yeah! I saw him with my own two eyes, right here, puttin’ presents down like no one’s business! He looked just like all the pictures, and he’s fast too! Course, you’d have to be if you traveled to that many houses in one night.”

“Well, Mikey, I suppose if you saw him, then your word has to be pretty believable, right?”

“Raph, I know what I saw, even if you don’t believe that I saw him. Maybe you’re just jealous of Santa because you’re going to get a big, fat lump of coal for Christmas!”

“Yeah, Mikey. That’s exactly what I’m going to get for not being a good boy, and not believing my little brother. Now, get over here so I can give you your first present, from me of course.”

Raph walked over to his younger brother, wrapping an arm around the small turtle’s shoulders and bringing him into a playful headlock, rubbing his bald head with his knuckles. Mikey broke into a fit of annoyance, shouting Raph’s name as the rest of the family began to laugh at their actions. Despite having their fights, the two definitely cared for each other, even when it seemed they couldn’t stand to even look at one another.They were truly brothers, all of them, and brothers need to watch out for brothers, no matter the situation.

In the end, the family was now more united than it had previously been. All the brothers received the gifts they wanted, even Mikey who was given a new skateboard. They didn’t ask for much, and what they did have, they treasured it with their lives. And they enjoyed their lives together and every struggle that came their way.

Raph especially loved the job of acquiring the Santa outfit he wore to surprise Mikey that morning.

...

The only one who didn’t enjoy their life was the man who had been stripped of his Santa suit around one in the morning by a group of three hooded figures that resembled turtles...Damn. Maybe lay off the eggnog next time.

M E R R Y ~ C H R I S T M A S