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Graffiti hides under the huge cloak as she rides on her momma’s back. She plays with her lime green coil curls, braids, and beads. Graffiti always wished to have hair like her momma, but her skull is bare and she hates it. She wonders where they are going to today. She stays locked inside most of the time. Momma tells her it‘s to keep her safe. Wherever they are, it’s cold. She hears locks coming undone. She tries to count them to herself. 1...2...3...5 no, 4...5...6. The door creaks as it opens. They enter with her momma closing the door behind her. “Kid, get off my back,” said her Momma. She clambers down and gets out from under the cloak. She holds onto her long boho style skirt. “Girl, let go of me.” She lets go of her skirt. her lilac eyes look at the area they are standing in. The walls are a muddy brown, the bone-white carpet has stains in a few spots, a staircase, a TV on cinder blocks, an old couch and a doorway that leads to a kitchen. “Stay down here.” Her momma goes up the creaky stairs. Graffiti turns on the TV, a Napstaton music video comes on. She sits on the floor watching him d-jay while other monsters are dancing. It’s rare for her to watch TV because there isn’t one at home. But she loves to listen to her radio. Several music videos and commercial played while her Momma was upstairs. Her Momma is counting money when she gets downstairs and puts the money into the top of her blouse. She moves over to the couch taking the cushions off, feels around and then continues to the floor to look under it and huffs as she lifts herself off the floor. She leaves to the kitchen and Graffiti follows her. Her momma opens a cabinet, pulling out a box and gives it to her. “Take these doughnuts and sit your ass down in front of that TV.” Graffiti takes the box and Looks into her momma’s eyes. “Are you going to be done soon? I thought we were going to do something today.” “I told you to go sit your ass down.” Her lime green and yellow eyes glow at her. Graffiti doesn’t want her bottom smacked. She takes the box and sits in front of the TV. As she waits for her again, she gets powdered sugar from the doughnuts all over her clothes, rocking back and forth to the music. Her momma comes out of the kitchen putting more cash down her shirt. She walks up to her handing her a folded up piece of paper. “There will be a taller skeleton or a short one coming here. Give them that note okay.” “Okay? Are you leaving me?” “You’ll be fine.” She exits the home, leaving Graffiti alone. She opens the note and the only thing she can read is her name; puts the note into her pocket. She goes into the kitchen and climbs up the counter. Finding a bag of jerky and a bottle of maple syrup. She takes her findings to the living room and puts one cushion back on the couch. She eats some jerk before opening the syrup bottle. This was perfect, she would never be allowed to drink maple syrup straight from the bottle. She squeezes with both of her hands onto the bottle. A large gush of syrup enters her mouth. It burns and stings her tongue. She swallows it. She wasn’t sure why she did that. If her momma was here, she would tell her not to waste food and eat it. So maybe that’s why. She takes her shirt to wipe off her tongue. Her bones are burning and her magic is turning sour. She curls up on the cushion, laying her head on the armrest. Her eye sockets are becoming heavy, She wishes her momma was here…. ….. “Graffiti!” That’s her momma. “You’re back!” “I can take you back home. It will be okay.” Her momma picks her up and carries her out of the house, leaving the door open. She runs most of the way through Waterfall, only stopping once to let Graffiti puke, before getting onto the Gulfman’s boat. The rest of the way home was peaceful. She lays her skull on her Momma’s shoulder. Two men stand outside of their little house. Momma’s boss, a weasel monster wearing a suit and gold rings, and a rat monster wearing a stained t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. “Where’s my fucking G?” asks her Boss. “Yeah, here it is.” She takes a band of money out of her shirt and hands it to him. He counts the money. “It’s all there” He keeps counting. “Bohemian, where did you get that kind of money?” Ask the rat monster. “None of your business.” She replies. The rat monster grabs between his legs, “I would pay you. I hear you don’t charge too much. I like em cheap and fast.” She covers Graffiti’s eyes. “I have a child right here, you fucker!” “I don’t fucking care. Are you selling your ass or not?” “No, I’m not! Just let me inside. My daughter is sick.” Her Boss chuckles, “I would leave that pain in the ass somewhere. I wouldn’t want to pay extra on my protection fee.” She says nothing to his statement. “You’re good. The full amount is here.” She unlocks the door and waits for them to leave before closing and locking it. “Momma?” “Yes?” “You wouldn’t get rid of me?” The house was silent for a moment. “Momma?” “Even if I thought it was a good idea to leave you somewhere and hope someone would take care of you.” She sniffles. Graffiti looks up at her. “If I were to abandon you.” Green tears run down her cheeks. “I would come back for you.” Her soul feels heavy. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to know.” ---------
Six weeks after Cash meets an older Graffiti
Cash leans against the outside of his boyfriend’s house, smoking to calm his nerves. The story Graffiti told him made his soul shake. He lights his second cigarette when the sound of the basement door open and close got his attention. He’s shocked to see Black and Slim come around the corner. “Well, well, Hello strangers. You look like two people I used to know.” Cash can’t help himself. “I haven’t seen them in two fucking months.” “Shut up purple ashtray.” Black growls. “If we don’t want to be bothered, then you should respect our choices.” He relaxes his stance.“Is your daughter inside?” Cash gives him a puzzling look. “Russ told us about Graffiti.” “Yeah, Lust and Love are playing dress up with her. OH. By the way. if you want to get her anything she doesn’t need clothes and shoes. She has enough for ten girls.” “Why would we want to get your child anything? Isn’t that your job as her father?” Black crosses his arms and raises his brow. “After you meet her and hear ‘bout her life with Bohemian. You’ll want to give her the world.” Black rolls his eyes and goes into the house. Slim doesn’t follow Black inside.” Is something up between you two?" “Well, Ta make a story long, short.”, Slim takes a cigarette from his own pack and lights. “M’lord had a miscarriage. He’s been hormonal and I’ve drinking away his words because you know, somehow it’s always my fault.” He eyes averted to the ground and kick at the snow. “I guess he got done being jealous of you and Stretch having a family. And wants to get over losing the baby. We literally made up this morning. He’s as cool tempered as he can be and I’m sober. we shouldn’t be a messed up to meet Graffiti.” “Well, thank you for coming in to meet her. And I’m sorry for your lost.” Cash scratches the bottom of his mandible. “Dealing with Black must be hell.” Slim flicks his cigarette butt into the snow. “I can deal with M’lord. And you know, it’s for the better in the long run. I don’t think I would be a good dad,” He sighs. “If you were to have a kid of your own, you’ll want to hold them and look into their eyes. Because… She’s the most perfect little girl and you only want the best for her.” He flicks his cigarette butt. “Cash, eleven isn’t little.” “Shut up!” He pushes himself off the house. The two head inside. Lust and Love are sitting on the floor at Graffiti’s feet with bags of more fucking clothes and shoes. But she looks happy. Stretch has his camera in hand taking pictures. Black is sitting on the couch, wearing a faint smile. Graffiti is dressed up in a pink dress with white stripes, a cropped jean jacket, and low heel black dress shoes. She twirls around and smiles for the camera. She stops to stare at the man beside her dad. Her cheeks light up lilac, she gives a shy smile, and waves at them. The AU05 brothers and Stretch look back at Cash and Slim. “That’s just my brother, Slim,” said Black. “Young lady, you need not to be scared of him.” “N-no. He’s huh-” her face lights up more. “I think she likes him.” Lust chuckles. Love claps his hands. “Awe, that’s so cute!” “NYEH HEH HEH. I’m flattered.” Slim chuckles Graffiti grimaces, her whole skull glowing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. You probably hate me now.” Stretch goes to her and she holds onto him, burying her face into his hoodie to hide. Cash comes in at their side. He whispers to the side of his boyfriend’s skull. “I need to have the ‘boys are gross’ talk with her. You’ll help me with that, right? " Stretch kisses his cheek. “Thank you.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Graffiti stands straight up against the doorway to the bathroom. Bohemian makes a mark above her head. Bohemian writes it on a notepad. “Alright baby, now, can you step on the scale for me?” She does so. Her mom jots sit down “Why are you recording it?” Graffiti asks. “I might have to add more dust into the bag.” Bohemian’s pen stops. she whispers to herself. “Okay, I think we are good, Nobody should notice five ounces are missing from a pile of dust.” “Mom?” Bohemian looks at her. “When will we have to do this?” “I think we’re going to have to do it soon. They keep raising their fees. I can’t get caught up. There’s no way I can keep us here.” Bohemian stands on the scale recording her weight.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
There’s someone at the door. “Baby, go to your room. You stay there until I come to get you. Okay?” Graffiti nods and runs for her room heading for her closet, locking it behind her. “Bohemian! Where is my G!” Weasel boss yells at her mom. “I don’t have it.” “You ‘don’t have it’ aye? Well, you’ll need it in an hour.” He doesn’t sound pleased. “I can’t make that kind of money in an hour. Look, I can give you a part of it right now. And the rest later.” SMACK. Weight drops to the floor. “I’m coming for the G in an hour.” The door shuts. Graffiti’s bones are rattling. There are footsteps walking toward her room. “Graffiti, stop shaking, baby. They’ll hear your bones. You don’t want them to find.” The closet door opens. Bohemian’s green magic travels down her jaw. “We need to pack our bags now.” The two go through the house like chickens with their heads cut off. Packing the things they need: clothes, food, water, and gold. Graffiti is stuffing her backpack when someone pounds on the front door. Bohemian’s back in the bedroom. “Those bastards, they can’t fucking wait!” She locks the door. Graffiti’s grab by her humerus. She’s darg toward the closet. “I heard him say an hour.” Graffiti is drag into the small closet. “Mom?” “Don’t leave this spot until the coast is clear. Go to Snowdin, find a man named Papyrus. He should still be in the first house after Waterfall.” The sound of splitting wood prompts Bohemian to take the bag of dust and one of Graffiti’s outfit sets. She throws the clothes on the ground, summoning a green bone with a razor edge, stabbing the bag, pouring out the dust. Bohemian comes back to her daughter tossing the sack into the closet. “You can’t come back here and don’t come back looking for me.” Her voice cracks. “I’m going to die tonight.” Someone strikes the bedroom door. “Bohemian don’t make this harder on yourself.” “I love you, Graffiti.” Bohemian kisses her little girl’s forehead. “I love you too, mom.” The door is shut on her. Graffiti holds herself in the darkness. The bedroom door burst open. “What the fuck is this?” says the weasel. “You dusted your kid?” he laughs. “I heard what you sick freaks do to children. She’s better off dead.” The rat monster laughs too. “Whores like you have no right to judge.” Yelling and crying ensues, following by sparks of magic, banging, smashing of furniture …. Silence. Graffiti gradually opens the door. The door is hanging by a single hinge. The dust is spread across her room. She walks down the hallway toward the living room. Graffiti stop dead in her tracks. Bohemian’s mossy green dress in tatters. A mix of liquid magic and dust decorate the garment. Graffiti runs out of her house with lilac tears streaming down her face. ----- The cloaked figure awaits for her next passenger. There are steps from little feet and a pair of boots echoing, making their way to her boat. “AH! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Gaster knows that voice! She teleports to the area she estimates where the cry is coming from. A young skeleton girl is struggling to get her shirt release from a fire salamander. There’s a whiskey bottle in his other hand. He tries to speak, but his words are mumbles and slurs. Gaster runs to them. She takes the skeleton girl into her arms. Gaster covers the girl’s face with the long-following sleeves of her robe. She summons a lilac bone, stabbing him right in the middle of his forehead. His dust falls to the ground. The two skeletons make eye contact. “Your eyes.” Her granddaughter stares in aw. “They’re like mine.” Graffiti, Gaster believes is her name, isn’t entirely wrong. They have the same almond shape eye sockets. But, because of her good-for-nothing son hasn’t been there for his child. Her eyes aren’t as bright as they should. The mother isn’t good for much either. “Yes, they are.” Gaster cups her face with her hand. “Where is your mother?” “She’s gone.” Graffiti’s trembles. “Can you take me to Snowdin?” Gaster understands what she means by ‘gone’. But why Snowdin? For Papyrus? “Of course.” She leads Graffiti to her boat. Graffiti stays close to her cling to the black robe. “Why are you the ‘gluffman’ when you’re a lady?” “Nobody needs to know that I’m a woman. Keep this between you and me.” “Okay.” The two stay quiet as they ride to Snowdin. As Gaster pulls up to the dock, she asks, “What are you looking for?” “Someone name Papyrus.” “I’ll lead you there.” Gaster keeps her word, taking her granddaughter to the skeleton brother's house. “If things don’t work out for you with this Papyrus person. You can come to me. Keep that a secret too, please.” “I won’t say a word. And Thank you for everything.” Gaster pats her back and walks away. Graffiti never came back to the dock. ….. It’s been three days after Graffiti’s birthday. Gaster’s magic sours more with each passing day she waits in one of the waterfall caves. What the hell is going on with my grandchild? Papyrus, if something happened to her, I’ll make you wish you were never born.
Wait! What’s this?
Her eldest son and granddaughter walk down the path to Graffiti’s mother’s headstone. Papyrus made a lovely child. She’s so tall, her bones clean, straight teeth, and her eye lights bright. Beautiful. It’s almost a shame that she stopped him from conceiving more children after Papyrus impregnate that whore. Her little Graffiti makes her happy enough to watch her grow. If Gaster is correct, Graffiti is eighteen now. Papyrus stands back as Graffiti sits in front of the headstone. She talks to it, telling her mother how tall she is and other things that she Gaster can’t quite hear. Papyrus tells his daughter it’s time to go. Graffiti gets up and follows behind her father. She stops to gaze in the direction of Gaster, where she has been hiding in the shadows. The young skeleton gives a bright smile, weaving at her, before turning back to catch up with Papyrus.
Maybe next year I’ll try to give her something.
Gaster always says this to herself, but she forgets each year.