"Tuesday Wakes Up Silent, and There Aren't Enough Pills to Sleep..."

Tuesday gasped and awoke panting from the dream she had. Her dreams were why she had a recurring battle between her mind and her body, avoiding the bed even when her body was too tired to stay awake. Her dreams scared her. The last thing she needed was some weird, fucked up dream that seemed to get its cues by crappy b-side type horror movies that she never went near when she was awake.

The fresh dream twisted and turned through her brain as she lied in bed, too tired and groggy to get up. No matter what she tried to think about, she kept on thinking back to the dream; recalling details, pondering the meaning, and getting sick with the slideshow images. The dream started with Richard, the fucking smart, blatantly right, arrogant, overly capitalistic, political, pretentious asshole who sat next to her in English. He had the annoying habit of staking arguments about anything that was remotely debatable, and telling her how horrible her linguistic skills were with his constant correcting. His ego could easily occupy half a dozen European countries. The bright side is that he really was intelligent, witty, charismatic, persuasive, and as previously stated, male. Deep down, she knew that he was everything she wanted to be.

She got out of bed and staggered into the bathroom. The first thing she noticed was the horrible bags under her eyes, and how sallow her skin looked. Her eyes themselves were red and cold looking - red like the blood in her dream.

She had dreamt that Richard had a lab and was performing horrible vivisections. The first of the awful animal "experiments" consisted of over a dozen rabbits in a contortion of a metal box, which had oddly-shaped holes for their heads to stick out. Their delicate eyes seemed to bulge our of their sockets as much as their heads stuck out of the swiss cheese like prison. There were obviously too many rabbits in the box. The box itself was in a bigger cage, and hung from the ceiling. She heard herself scream "What the hell are you testing, Rich? Overpopulation? That's not overpopulation-they're absolutely cramped! You know what's going to happen! They're going to die! This isn't an experiment! You're killing them and you know it!"

The second thing that she saw was a small white mouse busily running on a double bowl like platform. It looked like a shallow metal bowl on a balancing on top of a larger one, and the bottom bowl was looped with wire running from the ceiling. Richard explained that the mouse had to continuously run in a circle to maintain the balance, or else it'd fall off-onto the concrete floor a meter below.

The third contraption was similar to the other two. There were also two rats on a steel platform, which was also dangling from the ceiling. They were supposed to fight, and fight they did. It was so horrible and vicious, but she noticed that they didn't fight like rodents normally do. No, they fought like men. Standing on their hind legs and clawing at each other with those small, sharp nails. Then one of them fell, hit the ground hard, and was still for a moment. She could make out "A-9" on his collar. He was an absolute mess. His fur was matted down with blood and his wounds were more than just deep. Was that bone that she could see? She sat down and to pet him, and saw just how majestic and beautiful he was, despite his wounds that were too awful for worded thoughts. She placed her hands on the floor for him to crawl on. As he did, she could feel that complete trust he had in her. Trust so pure, that it made her gasp, as it startled her to feel it. But then she did the most unexpected thing. She put him back on the platform.

It terrified and stunned her. She could have saved him. She could have saved all of them. But she did nothing at all. Just stood and watched, and even put the majestic creature, A-9, back for him to die. Even after sharing that deep trust that could only come from a creature so beautiful and pure. She looked down at her hands, which looked so foreign to her. They were stained with his blood, and transferred to her face and clothes by her carelessness.

While she wasn't paying attention, the small white mouse had fallen to the floor. She turned, and only saw it's remains as a little red, bloody lump. She quickly ran into the other room, where Richard was. The bastard wasn't even watching his experiments. She screamed at him, "Your animals are dying too fast! You can't get results like this! Can't you get a big foam mat or something? If they fall out, I'll even catch them and put them back in... Just don't let them die so suddenly, so swiftly like that..." He said no in the longest, most lawyer-like speak she had ever heard.

In an act of civil desperation, she pulled him into the other room, to show him the bloody mouse that had fallen. And again he said no, in the same annoying long-winded, self-justifying way.

"YOU BASTARD! You're KILLING them! Don't you understand?!" she screamed, as she lunged at him. He punched and grabbed her, spun her around so that he was behind her, and pinned her body to him with his arm across her waist. She franticly spun in the other direction, broke free from his grasp and tried to punch him a few times. She was losing control of her body, and had a great deal of trouble maintaining her balance. Through her confusion, she saw his wicked smirk because he saw her struggle with the gravity.

"You've been living on Earth for how long now? Don't you think that you could've gotten used to gravity by now?" he taunted, and let out a jackal-like laugh. After more blurry movements and dizzy shifting, she got her foot onto his groin, and then pressed and grinded until he shrunk back to the wall. And then she wanted to hurt him more, more, more. Hurt him for the pain he was causing the animals. Hurt him because something about the place got her to put the mouse back. And also, so secretly that she didn't even know it at the time, to hurt him because he was better. She wanted the A, the literacy, the grammar know-how, and the confidence as much as she wanted to hurt-and possibly kill-him. Just grind and grind until he died. He crumpled down onto the floor against the wall.

And all along, she A-9's precious blood on her hands and face.

She snapped out of the dream and gazed into the mirror again, at the lack of blood on her face now. Why didn't I save them? she wondered. She looked down at her hands again, still looking foreign, even though the dream was long over. Maybe there's a message in my dream. I feel as if I need to make a choice, but what is it? What must I choose? She thought back to Richard in her dream. Doing research, but he doesn't care. Sets up the experiments, but doesn't even stay to watch. He wants to learn, but does it in a horrible way. He doesn't care about others. That last trait was what both infuriated and sprouted envy in her. She always had to listen to people's problems, getting hurt in relationships, and caring about everything so damned much. Let me be the callous one. Let me smirk, hold all the cards, read people and care about nothing but myself for once. Maybe that's why I didn't save the animals. Both out of some sort of fear of Richard, and wanting the carefree life he has. I can finally be the one beating up someone else for once, finally come out on top. I think that's the choice I have to make, the one my dream is telling me to make.

As she thought more, even the walls seemed to whisper, "Remember the rabbits? So helpless, so crowded, and stuck in that box. You were born a rabbit, but today you are offered the choice: stay a weak rabbit forever, or overcome it and be a jackal. You could be smart and strong and no one could get in your way. Or you can stay a rabbit, always weak and at the mercy of others. The choice is yours, Tuesday. What do you want? Make the choice and it's yours."

She smiled and punched the mirror with her strange fists, and as it shattered and blood flew down her arm, they started to feel more and more familiar. She looked up at where the mirror had been, and let out a little jackal laugh.

As she walked out of the bathroom, she could feel herself smirking.