Dots and Splashes
Sirius would never understand how such an “upstanding” police officer could take a bribe from his parents. Knowing them, Lupin was getting blackmailed into following him, not paid. The little bitch followed his movements like a lost puppy. One with rabies and ready to bite. No matter how much he moved around or stayed out of Lupin’s way he couldn’t shake the poor bastard. He was the epitome of everything Lupin would never be and his parents knew it.
They used it to shame him, the mind games were so old he knew them by heart.
Walburga needed to learn some new tricks. Digging her nails into his peace like she had any lingering claim to him. Just when he was getting good at being alone they just had to buy him a watchdog.
The days after his unfortunate path crossed with the law, Sirius had begun planning. He knew he needed to make something attention catching, something big and bold and seen. He had settled on a sketch that portrayed his own personal struggles with poverty and tight money. A true “eat the rich” type of piece. It was going to be one of his grandest attempts at protest yet. Might even cause Walburga and Orion to reconsider not just taking a hit out on him when they had the chance.
Sirius had everything he needed to project his voice, cans and paint. It was starting to get a bit dusky out so he began surveying for a proper spot to radicalize. The streets were crowded with homeless, setting up camps for the night. Sirius had brought what food he could afford to spare out to share with them. It was little, but every bit counted. That could’ve been him sleeping around the corner in the alleyway. That could’ve been him lighting a fire in a trash can to savor what little warmth was offered. He could’ve been one of the bodies that laid inside tents, too weak to stand and reliant on the kindness of others. He could’ve been the old man who sits on the pavement holding his sign and begging until he can no longer keep his eyes open. Now it was his turn to make them heard. It was his turn to get heard.
The paint dripped beautifully, capturing every sour line on his mothers face as he “X”ed her out. The bright red Xs covered Orion and Walburga’s faces as Sirius looked up crying from beneath them. The portraits were painted in monochrome to highlight the bright red signage. “Eat the Rich” was sprayed under all three of them. Sirius finished the painting just as the sun was rising. Feeling rather proud he began the short walk home, already prepared for the idiot cops he would greet in the near future.
After getting some much needed sleep, Sirius awoke to a knock at his door. The cops had finally seen his little signature and came to take him into their measly station, again.
“Fuck, I’m coming assholes”, he shouted after the third aggressive bang on his door. Geez what did they think he was a mafia boss? Wiping his face and shaking himself awake he went to answer the door. That wasn’t a cop. As soon as it registered he had already hit the floor, a chloroform soaked rag stuffed in his mouth. He hissed and bit and choked. But everything started to fade, the world got so blurry. Had there always been a dark spot on the ceiling. It didn’t matter, he was so tired. Whatever could he be fighting for? This was so pleasant he may just…
fall……
asleep.