A/N: UNDERTALE IS OWNED BY TOBY FOX

Dr. Alphys.

I'd say you probably don't remember me, but I'm sharp enough to know I usually make an impression on people. I'm Grillby's daughter and I was in your 6th grade class a long time ago when you had a small stint as a teacher.

I'm writing this to you because I don't know who else to tell my story , here it goes:

You know, the funny thing about ignoring bigotry is you have to learn how to do it early on in life for it to become habit. I got really used to being called stupid by people I could think circles up, I was always told that I couldn't do things. I was told I couldn't play sports because I was a girl. I was told I couldn't speak other languages because I wasn't some other race. I was told I couldn't do math because I would be too stupid to understand. In fact, being called stupid was something I got called a lot growing up. It was everyone telling me this. My family, my friends, my teachers, other monsters in Hotland and Snowden, everyone. In fact, the first thing anyone ever said to me at middle school was presented as a question by an armless monster child:

"Are you retarded?"

I was taken aback. It had been the first time I would ever hear the word. Sure, I'd been called stupid. Now, in sixth grade, they were getting fancier with the terminology. You could imagine how livid I was when I found out what that word meant. It was so long ago, but I remember it clearly. Something about me, without me saying a single word, had signaled me as stupid to this person.

I remember mulling it over all that year in sixth grade while I was in your class. Sometimes, you probably noticed, I would go very quiet. Those would be the times I thought about what that student said. How could they think that about someone they didn't know. I had taught myself to read when my elementary school refused. I was the only Special education student to get the silvery royal award for reading in elementary school. I managed to do it in half a year. That in itself was an accomplishment.

You don't know this about me, because I don't like to talk about it. In Snowden, before I transfered over to the school system in Hotland, I fell in love with mystery and horror books written by humans. I could power through Stephen King (though this took a while and I would often have to look up words to understand them) or R.L Stine. I even liked to read books about space. I especially liked books about dinosaurs and space before I came to Snowden. However, when I got there, they told me I had a kindergarten reading level. I remember having to work to prove my reading level wasn't so dismal. Within a week, my reading level was back where it needed to be.

I didn't listen to the people who told me I couldn't read. Who were they to tell me what I could and could not do? In the end, it paid off. I was the only student that year in to get that award. Nobody acted like it was important. In fact, even to me, it wasn't. I had done something that, to my knowledge, no other special education student had ever done before. Then, nobody, not even myself, cared.

In your class, you tried to teach us the beginnings of algebra. You expected us to be able to read and write. You expected us to understand concepts. You honestly believed we could be more than what we were. We were more than monsters to you. We were at the precipice of something, but we just didn't know what. Then you told me something that would change my life forever.

You see, I didn't know I was in Special Ed. My mother had been lying to me until you and I talked about it. Then, as you know, I didn't do my homework for two weeks straight. I simply refused to do it. The reason wasn't you. You were a great teacher. I just felt destroyed. I had always wanted to go to a university. That meant I wouldn't be able to. My mom promised she'd do something about it if I started doing my work again. I actually found out several years later my mom was actually faking the whole me having down-syndrome thing as a way to make money from the government. Naturally, I'm not on speaking terms with her. I also found out she never intended to let me out of Sp. Ed. In fact, to this day, I still have to do my taxes the first day it's available because she will try to claim me as a dependent even though I haven't lived with or near her in years.

In eighth grade, I was still in Sp. Ed. I was still getting teased. I kept asking to be put in regular classes, but my mom kept giving me the same answer. That I wasn't ready. I started to believe her. I started to believe I was actually stupid. After all, I'd worked my hardest over the past few years and it still hadn't been enough for her or anyone to believe I could be more. Then, something happened. I got all As in my classes. This was normal for me. The classes in Hotland weren't like the ones in Snowden. They just give you some elementary school worksheets and tell you to finish them by the end of the day. What wasn't usual was my little sister's big fat F's across the board. My mother praised me. She liked to do that every report card I got. Then, when she looked at my sister's, she grounded her on the spot for two weeks. As soon as she was out of earshot, my sister told me this:

"You only got As because you're in Special Ed."

This was the beginning of her harassment. She'd start asking me why I wasn't in regular classes if I was so smart. She got her friends to start teasing me at school. Pretty soon, I was just known as the retard thanks to my own sister. As you can imagine, I don't talk with her either anymore. I'm not proud of how I retaliated. I used to ask people how they could trust the words of someone who was little more than a bimbo. I wasn't exactly wrong. She was the type of person who used her body to get what she wants. That's actually what my mom taught her to do after that first bad report card. She told my sister that if she isn't going to be smart, she should get someone who is to do it for her. When my little sister asked how, my mom told her to use her body. I asked my mom why she never told me that, and my mom actually told me I wasn't pretty enough to use my body like that. We were in middle school.

In 9th grade, my mother moved us up to the human world and in to the gulf coast of Mississippi. It was not a place I liked. But, they did have a large library at my new school there. I read the entirety of that library actually. I read every single book in a single semester. I learned about human people like Jackie Robinson, Martin Luther King, Eliza Fritzlegard, and especially the Freedom Riders. I became immersed in the story of the battle for civil rights. These people fought tooth and nail for their rights and they did it else was going to do the fighting for them. They reminded me of your hero and wife Undyne in a way. So. That's what I did. I took a page out of their book. Out of Undyne's book. In my first semester of high school, I started fighting back. I started telling people that I wasn't stupid. I started correcting people when they looked over their homework for other classes and got answers wrong. I talked to teachers who specialized in subjects I liked. I demanded to be put in a non-sp. Ed class. Even if I didn't get credit for it, I was going to prove I could do it. So, I ended up in a health class that first semester. I got a B+.

The principal noticed. So did the librarian. The principal finally asked me if I would like to start regular classes in the second half of 9th grade. She thought it would help with the whole human and monsters getting along idea the school was trying to purport to the public. I told her yes immediately. What did my mom try to do? Well, she tried to talk me out of it. It took a board of teachers, a principal, and myself to tell her a resounding no. She was not going to get her way this time. I was finally going to have a future! Back then, I actually thought my mom was proud of me. But, that's actually the day she started to hate me. I thought maybe she was just being tough on me because of the new environment I was going to be in. It turned out that it was because she couldn't collect government money on her faking my down syndrome anymore if I wasn't in Special Ed.

I mentioned earlier that the librarian noticed. She was about as welcoming as my mom was at first. I was checking out 4 books from the library and turning about 7 back in. The 7 were the first 2 Harry Potter books and five biographies: Venus Williams, Walt Disney, Edgar Allen Poe, Celine Dion, and Tiger Woods. I'd read them before but I was trying to read through the library again to get ready for my regular classes in the spring. The books I was trying to check out that day were Johnny Voodoo (I love that book), The Lost World, a biography about Elvis Presley, and the third Harry Potter book. As soon as I handed over the first 7 books, she took the other 4 from me and demanded my library card. She told me she couldn't allow me to check out any more books. She said there was no way I could be reading all of these books and paying attention in class. I ended up having to skip my last class of the day because I immediately went to the principal after that to get everything settled. I did eventually get my library card and privileges back. However, the principal actually had to show her my current grades before she gave them back. The principal herself thought such a move was stupid. After all, the librarian had no actual authority to do that and the principal actually pulled me aside and asked me to not go to the news about it after everything was said and done. That same librarian would become a friend over the course of the next few years.

On my first day of regular classes, I felt like an elephant in the room. I was wearing baggy beige pants and an orange oversized t-shirt. I've always loved shirts that are like tents on me. They are like safety blankets you can travel everywhere with. Usually, I would've worn my sailor outfit. Not for that day. On that day, I wanted to feel as comfortable as possible with all the butterflies I had roaming my stomach.

I was expecting either indifference or to be treated like an inconvenience. For the most part however, I was met with an unusually warm welcome. I wouldn't say I made many friends that first year, but I would say I started to develop a far more positive outlook on my life.I really wouldn't break out of my shell until around junior and senior year though.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't have to fight to be seen as equal to the people around me. There was no longer something that made me less than the other person. I still sometimes got asked if I was retarded and I certainly still had a few instances with bigotry and ignorance. Most of them make me just roll my eyes nowadays when I recall them. Most of them I can forgive. There's only one time I can't seem to let go of.

Hurricane Katrina hit my neighborhood pretty badly when I was in high school. Thankfully, our trailer only lost a few shingles and suffered mild water damage. The FEMA people actually did come by our house to do a check. They found some mold in my closet that was probably there since before we even moved in to the place. The woman said there wasn't much they could do and was about to leave when my mother shouted, while I looked directly at her, the following:

"So you expect my mentally retarded daughter to sleep in a room that's got a closet full of mold?!"

Yeah. She did that. It stung too. She didn't respect me or how hard I worked. I can honestly say I've never respected her since that day. I saw her for what she was and I was livid. I actually looked into getting emancipated after that.

My grandma actually helped me land my very first job interview. Oh, but not to get emancipated. My mom was refusing to work and Grandma thought somebody should be helping to pay bills if we were going to live with her. Did I mention we had to move in to my grandma's place after Katrina because my mom couldn't keep a job or a man because of her attitude? Well, that's what happened. That interview didn't go well. It went even worse when mom found out I was looking for jobs. She said something or other about not being able to claim me as a dependent anymore if I worked. I didn't even know what a dependent was back then.

So yeah, it's been several years since then. I'm happily about to get a degree in college. I graduate a few days from now actually. I had to give up so much to get here. I had to shun my family and work several jobs to afford it. But, I think it was worth it. I got away from a mentally abusive woman who used me to gain money and pity from the people around her. I got away from a sister who valued her body more than her family. I even got to patch things up with my father back in Snowden. Looking back on it, I suppose it's no surprise my major in college was social services. I'll actually be the very first monster with that degree. Nobody seems to care about that though. Well, nobody except me.

I'll probably see you soon Dr. Alphys.

Signed,

Grillby's kid.