Mr. Oogie Boogie Man (*) [Shoogie]
@causeimmroogieboogie
It was Shock’s birthday, which meant she was celebrate.
No, she didn’t celebrate with cake and presents, the normal way. Those kinds of things hadn’t been the norm for the Adamsons since Shock had gotten out of the hospital. Maybe even before. Honestly, it was hard to remember. Mostly because she didn’t care. Shock loved her birthday, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend it with her family. That was actually the opposite.
Though, Vanessa was insistent on making Shock’s “favorite” meal. Which was just spaghetti. (It wasn’t, actually, because Shock didn’t really have a favorite meal. You learned not to be picky. However, that would be the caption on Vanessa’s Facebook by tomorrow morning.)
She had gotten done with dinner in record time and hit the town, backpack laden with spray paint. This town was ripe for tagging with all its little side-streets that popped up clear out of nowhere and sometimes led to nothing at all.
Currently, she was oultside some non-descript office building. It was nicely off the beaten path, but close enough that anyone walking by would manage a glimpse of her delightful artwork. (Which, for the record, at the moment was something akin to a paw print and something like “war on the Mundus!”)
The sound of the spray paint was lulling and, hey, it was her birthday. Nothing bad could happen, right?