Raphael sat on his bed pounding the mattress with his fists. He just couldn't understand why his own brother would want him gone. But it's Leonardo we're talking about. He is so unpredictable. The razor was shining in the little crack which was the only natural sunlight in his room. It was taunting him. Raphael snatched up the razor and violently cut his wrists. It was the same routine. Cut, wrap, sleep, train, repeat. The verbal abuse never stopped. It was becoming too much. He just wanted it all to end. But that would be against his own honor. Who the shell cared about honor anymore anyway? Raphael was going to do it. Tonight.