Standard Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles. I just play with them. Sometimes I play a bit too rough, and that makes them sad. But they're not mine, and I'm not using them for money. So… um... don't sue me. Please.

Author's Note: Just a small break from the Misadventures story. This was just a little ficlet idea that came to me while I was at work one night.

To End it All

It would be so easy. To end it all.

I could jump. There are so many rooftops in New York. I could jump. I'm sitting on one right now looking down at the city that never sleeps. The cars honking, the people yelling. None of them care what would happen to me. I've spent so many years defending them, and they wouldn't care if I died. They'd probably be glad. They'd see me as a freak. A threat. They'd dissect what was left of my body, and then they'd go hunting. Hunting for any more of my kind. They wouldn't find any though. I was the last one.

I could slit my wrists. One of the time-honored suicidal traditions. There wouldn't be any hesitation marks on me though. I'm not scared to die. I'm scared to live. To be alone in a world that hates and fears me. When I had my brothers, I had something to live for. Now that they're gone, what's left? Splinter passed away so many years ago, but we all managed to get on somehow. Then April and Casey. A plane crash on their honeymoon. Fate sure had a sick sense of humor. But we all still managed to get through that one too. We held strong together.

I could shoot myself. It would be gory. But what would I care? I'd be dead. Guns weren't hard to find. Every decent thug carried at least two. The guy that shot Mikey only had one though. One was enough. We buried him at the farm. Our farm now. Or mine, I guess. Donnie had done some fancy records altering, and the farm that had belonged to Casey, now belonged to someone who didn't exist. He'd hated to do it, but we couldn't let Splinter's body be out of our reach. We needed something to hold on to. All it was now though, was a burial ground.

I could hang myself. Not the most pleasant way to go. But I could do it. That was how the Foot had left Don for us to find. He'd been beaten and bloody, and dead. We're pretty sure he died before they strung him up though. Don was resting now beside Mikey.

Or I could march into the Foot headquarters and go down fighting like Raph. A blaze of glory. He must have taken out at least forty guys before they killed him. By the time I found him, it was too late. But he'd gone down the way he'd always dreamed of. A true warrior's death. He earned his place in the ground beside his master.

I could sit in my room and just wait for death to take me. I had no intention of dying with honor. What honor was left to be had? My clan was dead. My family… my brothers. All dead.

I thought I could go on. I'd convinced myself. I'd stood over the graves of my family and promised them I wouldn't let their deaths be in vain. I'd continue to fight. To survive.

But loneliness has a way of changing people. The desperation starts to seep in when you realize, for the first time in your life, you are truly alone.

A scream broke me from my dark thoughts. A woman in the alley below. Probably about to be raped. Maybe even killed. What did it really matter if I saved her? For every one woman I saved, there were so many more I'd not be able to help tonight. Life was cruel. Very few people knew just how cruel it could be.

I could jump. I could jump down and save that woman, giving my life meaning once again.

Or I could jump. I could jump and end the pain, joining my family in eternal rest.

It would be so easy. To end it all.

I jumped.

More Author's notes: One-shot ficlet. Did he jump, or didn't he? I'll let you decide, but I'm pretty sure I know which he would have done. Depression does funny things to people. Review and let me know what you think. If you want. I like reviews. They make me happy.