An empty house
Silence is golden, but to Papyrus. Some things are far more valuable and he finally realizes not everything can be replaced.
The sun beat down against concrete steps. All except that final one connected to the porch. Quiet yard, quiet street, quiet day in the normally abnormally loud household. Just the repetitive creak of faintly rusted chains. Chains that held a bench swing, swaying with the weight of its visitor. Papyrus. While not normally the outside monster, something that never changed with the surface world... sat alone in that swing. Only the smoke surrounding his cigarette to keep company. Each drag longer then the next, filling his ribcage the same way thoughts cluttered and tainted his mind. Any day he’d need to lock himself away in the lab just for a moment of silence.
Not that he liked it much- the silence that is. But when work calls and the deadline is days away often you need to face your internal fears to focus. that was often why even in his laboratory, something was making noise. be it the tabbing of his pencil, the plair of a muffled radio, or soft tune of their own voice. It was unnerving how even the loudest radio or television station struggled to fill that void left behind. Even if the threat of a neighborhood noise complaint wasn’t at risk, even if he could turn it up completely and drown out everything else. There was still something missing noise could never fill.
Life enjoyments he’d grown accustomed to with his sibling and niece that plain old sound couldn’t fulfill. that was the nagging, the shoulder punches, consent checkups from his overly affectionate sibling as if at any moment he’d vanish. Even the silent arm tugs of his niece, or her attempts to invade his hoodie to escape naptime were missing in his daily ritual.
Something that just couldn’t be replicated. no matter how much he wished it could. Sure it would be so much easier to apologize. Say that he was wrong and overreacted, forgive his brother and mother for the secret and yet here he was. Smoking and complaining in his own mind about how he was in the right. Why wouldn’t he we? After being lied to for years about his father, Told to lelt a dead man rest and not ask questions from the day he was born. It all felt like a betrayal. From the one person in the world who was meant to protect him, and the sibling he looked up to for years. ‘there are no pictures’ that’s what she always said. ‘They were lost in the move. ‘If I could show you I would.’ The words he believed up until he found those pictures
Hidden in the far corner of his mothers attic, behind boxes of items left behind when the brothers finally moved out. had it not been for his attempt to find his old computer he’d never have even known what his father looked like or what really happened to him. Far from the story he’d been fed of their father passing away peacefully. the reality was their father vanished in a storm. Assumed to have been knocked over the large pit in the trash section of waterfall. What seamed so trivial to be mad about to some felt like the biggest face slap to him. He’d gone on record during his time as a scientist quoting his devotion to his late father. speaking on his death during the interview. Only to find out he’d lied on those interviews, He’d known nothing about his father and what little he thought he did were lies. the thought even now left the skeleton breathing heavily. All sorrow or his sibling vanishing as fast as it had came. Stubborn as his own mother, refusing to accept their part of the blame. Looking out at the horizon, watching the sun set between neighboring houses and trees. Around this time his brother would have been making dinner for them. Likely chastising Papyrus from snacking bright before said dinner was prepared. With that realization came another, one that left him staring at the door wearily. He’d be eating alone tonight... and worse sleeping in that big quiet house alone again, another ach struck his soul.
With a glance to the cigarette in hand, having burnt its embers to the butt, pap gave it a toss to the concrete. Stepping for good measure. Shoulders slumped and head bowed back into his hood hiding away from the looming cloud of regret. As he made his retreat he couldn’t help the thought of how there were somany on his back and yet this was the first and only that truly held any weight.