"This is it," Lana thought. "I'm finally gonna get away from here once and for all."

She'd never tell anyone, but she'd been having problems at home lately. It seemed every time she turned around she was arguing with either one of the turtles or Master Splinter. And, after the last ass whooping she'd received, she was in no hurry to return home and stay home. She'd never forget who gave it to her either.

Flashback...

Lana quietly snuck into the dojo, knowing she wasn't allowed there unless she was practicing her ninjitsu, and even then, she was not allowed to touch any of the weapons, not even her own.

"Well, here it goes," she thought, as she made her way over to the weapon rack.

She took a deep breath, as she reached up and grab the weapon she'd had her eye on forever. She held it in her hands, and stared at it in complete awe. As she stared at it, she turned it over and over slowly, wanting to take in its every little detail.

"I wonder if it's harder to use 'cause it's bigger than mine," she wondered. She swung it around a little bit. "Nope, not at all hard to use."

She began to mess around with it then, and started getting kind of reckless. Suddenly, it flew from her hand, and hit the wall on the other side of the room. She watched in horror as part of it broke off, for some unknown reason.

"Oh, my God!" She gasped. "It's never broken after hitting something hard before! Oh, my God! I'm so dead!"

She quickly ran over to retrieve the weapon, and had just picked it up to assess the damage, when its owner entered the dojo.

"Please don't notice, please don't notice!" She prayed over and over. Her prayers weren't answered.

"Hey Lana," the owner said cheerfully. "Whatcha doin'?"

Lana froze as she watched him take a good look at what she held in her hands.

"That's not what I think it is, is it?" He asked, looking from her to the wall, where his prized possession was usually kept, then back at her again, with a stern look on his face. "Lana Marie, start explaining yourself young lady."

"I-um-heh," Lana trails off, suddenly feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "Sorry?" She raised her right eyebrow slightly, giving herself an unsure, yet somehow apologetic, look.

He gave her a Look, which seemed to show just exactly how peeved he was.

"Um...curiosity killed the cat?" She tried. "I-I couldn't resist?

"You KNOW you're NOT to touch ANY of the weapons!" He stated harshly. "NOT even your own!"

"I-I'm sorry," she said again. "I-I just HAD to touch it. HAD to see how it felt to hold it, and feel its glorious power."

"The only 'glorious' power you're gonna be seeing for the next while, is the power from your bedroom lights, Missy," he growls. "You're grounded until further notice."

"F-further n-notice?" Lana stammered, knowing that that was not good. "H- How l-long is f-further n-notice?"

"As long as I want it to be," he snarls, grabbing his, now broken, weapon from her. "Now, go to your room."

"N-No," she replied then made her voice stronger. "No. I won't."

"Excuse me?" He said, raising an eyebrow and looking at her skeptically. "What did you just say?"

"I said I won't, and you can't make me," she repeated, standing her ground. Enough was enough. She was sick of being treated like a baby. "I'm sick of being treated like a little kid!"

"Well, maybe if you stopped acting like one, you wouldn't be treated like one," he snapped. "You know, as well as I do, the rules around here must be followed to a tee, or consequences shall follow."

"Yeah, well, I DON'T see how me not being able to touch my own damn weapons is good for anybody. How the hell do you expect me to practice? Y'all are always busy with your own damn lives, yet still expect me to practice, but won't let me use any of the weapons to do so. Like, hello, they're MINE thank-you. I've been using some of them since I was two."

"Lana Marie, don't you go mouthing off to me young lady," he rejoined, glaring at her. "I'll tan your rear-end pretty good if you do."

"As if. I'll believe it when I see it," Lana retorted. "You wouldn't, and you know it."

"Don't test me Lana," he said. "I'm not in the mood to be tested."

"Oh, so stating the truth is a challenge now, is it?"

"I swear, if you say one more smart aleck comment, you will NOT be able to sit for quite some time," he snapped. "You're MAJORLY pissing me off."

"Good God," she answered. "Because you're pissed, I ain't s'pose to say a damned thing. Well, that's always good to know, now ain't it?"

He had enough then, and angrily grabbed her by the arm and whipped her around so fast, he was surprised she didn't get whiplash. He yanked her pants and underwear down, and spanked her until his hand actually hurt and he was satisfied. Once done, he yanked her pants back up, then whipped her back around to face him.

"Room. Now," he growled. "I'm NOT going to tell you again."

Lana looked at him with tears streaming down her face. "I hate you!" She shrieked, before running out of the dojo and into her room, slamming the door behind her.

End of flashback...

"Damn Leo," Lana grumbled, as she trudge along through the sewers. "Damn him. Damn them all."

She knew deep in her heart that she didn't mean what she said, then or now, but she was in Raph mode and refused to give in this time, until she got her way. The only thing she'd actually meant out of that whole conversation was that she was sick of being treated like a little kid. She was fourteen now. Hell, a teenager for crying aloud; but they still treated her as though she were nine, sometimes even four.

Lana sighed as she thought of one of the songs that the turtles had written and stuck on the cassette they'd made her when she was small and terribly frightened by every little thing.

When things are down

And you want no one around

Dragging your shell over town

Maybe it's awesome and you're feeling on top

Feel like out of your shell you're going to pop

Just sing about it Let the music bring

Sing about it

Whether you're happy or sad

Good times or bad

Just sing (sing, sing, sing), sing about it

You don't need nothing

Not even a drum (Just sing about it)

Your heart is where the music's coming from

There ain't too much in there

To help you remember

Or help you forget

The song, doesn't matter what kind of a song

Just get things started and before too long, yeah

All of your problems will be long (long) gone - Wooh yeah

Sing about it

If you're happy or sad

Sing about it

Whoa, in good times or bad

Sing about it

You don't need a drum

Sing about it

Your heart is where the music's coming from...

"Pff. Yeah, right," Lana scoffed. "I tried music, ya Bozos, but not even THAT got through to you."

She kicked the ground slightly, with every step she took, subconsciously slowing herself down, as her heart knew she didn't really want to go, but her mind, as usual, was telling her something different. "GO! GO!" Her mind screamed, while her heart's screams of "STAY! STAY!" were drowned out.