What if Willow hadn't discovered that she could turn Amy the Rat back into a girl after Tara left her? And what if they--convinced Amy would be a rat forever--had gotten her a companion to keep her "happy"? If Amy could still think like a human, what would her thoughts be? What revenge would she be plotting? These are my thoughts on the situation at hand. Enjoy, gentle reader, and go easy on me. Oh yeah, I do
NOT hate Willow or Tara(they're my favorites!!), Xander, Anya, or Buffy. Okay, I do hate Dawn, or I did at the writing of the story, but she kinda grew on me the last half of season 7. Anyway, any bashing of characters here comes from Amy's resentment, not my own biases. Well, maybe Dawn's.G
Bitch.
I'm watching her through my prison bars, watching her weep and act pathetic. Like her world's come to an end, like she's going through hell. I wish to Hecate she was going through hell. The kind of hell I'm going through, have been going through the past two years. I'm the one trapped in Hell, condemned to this eternal torture, yet she's the one crying. I don't have enough tears for what's been done to me, for what I've been through. She can change this for me, she has the power to. She has more power now than anyone I've ever seen. Yet she does nothing but screw up her life, not understanding, misusing the power she's been blessed with. Letting another, one weaker than herself--granted, the other had power too, strong, but nowhere near her level--bring her down, dictate her thoughts and actions. And here I sit.
A rat. A freaking rat. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember that this state I'm in is my fault, the result of a spell I performed when the town turned on all witches. A spell that turned mothers on their children and made them insane, determined to stamp out the "evil" in Sunnydale. I would've died that day, me and Buffy, had I not uttered the spell that changed me, turned me into what I am now. I'm not exactly sure what happened after that, but how powerful I'd felt in that moment! The words flowing from my mouth; the astonished looks on everyone's faces as my body changed and curled upon itself, as the ropes binding my body hung the barest moment on thin air, then dropped with nothing to hold them up. I ran for freedom then, scurrying between the people still riveted to the floor in their shock and fear. I still don't know the details, but I do know that Buffy--heroic, annoying Buffy--must have saved the day. Because she's still here, my keeper. My jailor.
Oh, she thought she was so clever. Buying me a cage, this retarded-ass wheel. Shredded paper covering the bottom. Feeding me bits of lettuce, cheese, and these Goddess-damned pellets like some animal. An animal. That's what I am to them now, a pet, nothing more. Something to be coddled and fed and watched for their amusement, like a sideshow freak. How I wish I could turn the tables on them! Make them the freaks in my cage to feed these nasty pellets and watch run around this hated wheel. That thought has kept me sane the past two years. Someday, someday it'll happen....
A noise breaks into my thoughts and I turn to see the bane of my existence--one of them, anyway--waddle toward me. Sam. What a freaking retarded name for a rat! I still remember the day they brought him home, that fat cow Willow loved cooing over him like an idiot, Buffy's whiny, pathetic sister oohing and ahhing and squealing like the retard she is. Miss Holier-Than-Thou Buffy lecturing that another "pet" will be extra work and that Dawn will be responsible for helping Willow and Tara take care of "us". Even Xander and that annoyingly blunt bitch he's screwing came over and checked us out. Goddess I hate that woman! Her insane comments about how I should be "glad" that I have a nice new "orgasm friend"--what the fuck is an "orgasm friend"?!?--and that I'll be happy having lots of babies. Babies!! Those bitches took my babies, never mind that I didn't want to have the hairy little bastards in the first place. They were my babies, mine, and if it wasn't for Buffy and her whining about the extra work and mess "a bunch of rats running around" would cause, I'd still have my babies. I didn't want them, but that's not the point. Maybe I could've eaten them, one at a time, while they all watched. That really would've freaked everyone out.
Sam is next to me now, nuzzling me. I snap and bite at him. He nips me back gently and I hiss and bite at him again, harder. He moves off, hurt, I suppose, but who knows or gives a rat's ass? Ooops. Pardon the pun. I hate him. I hate the animal need that drew him to me and forced me to respond. As a human, I was a virgin, so guess what? With my new animal hormones driving me, I couldn't even refuse. It hurt, of course it did, just another hurt on top of all the other hurts I've been through since I've become a rodent. I want to kill him, I want to kill them all. Soon, one day soon.
Willow's still crying, and now she's getting up and approaching my cage. She's all blotchy from crying, and she opens the cage door and lifts me out. Silly bitch is crooning to me now, telling me how lucky I am that I have Sam, someone who loves me for me, unconditionally and who'll never leave me. Like either of us have a choice! And loving me for me--don't make me laugh. Or puke. I am NOT a rat! I'm a girl, a girl who missed out on her prom, missed out on graduation, everything. They got to do all that, experience life and new loves and make new memories. What did I get? Jack all, that's what I got. It's so unfair! Stupid's stroking me now and I can barely see through the rage that threatens to strangle me. I know I shouldn't do this but it's all just too much. I sink my teeth into Willow's hand as hard as I can. She shrieks, dropping me, then bursts into tears. Now the retard's moaning about how everyone's turned on her now, even sweet Amy. Sweet, hah! And oh, it's all her fault for not being able to make me human again. No shit, you stupid wannabe. If you weren't so busy learning to munch carpet, you could've come up with a way to restore me several times over.
Stupid flees into the bathroom, nursing her bleeding hand. She hasn't shut the cage, but I don't bother trying to escape. There's nowhere safe to go. So I crawl back into my cage, well away from Sam, who's avoiding me anyway, and lick the blood from my whiskers. Sweet, it tastes sweet because I can taste her dispair in the sticky liquid. Sometimes I think I'd like to bathe in her blood, stomp and roll and revel in it. But that would be a waste. Because if she's dead, she can't suffer. And she must suffer for this. Because we've both been through the same thing, but what were the outcomes? Everyone feels sorry for her and tiptoes around her and caters to her oh-so-delicate sensibilities. What do I get? A cage and pellets and Sam. Pregnant every season. That's what I get.
I sigh and try to gather my thoughts, but my head feels kinda fuzzy and my body feels heavy. I sigh again as I realize what that means. The heavy feeling, the crankiness. Not just my usual I-wanna-get-back-at-Sunnydale feeling. I'm pregnant again. I turn my head and glare at Sam, who's running around in circles in his corner of the cage. Then I turn back to throw my scowl at the bathroom door, where Poor Me is still crying. I can see her a little in the bit of bathroom mirror I can see from where I am, and it looks like she's hugging something. A dress. Fatso didn't take everything with her when she left, so now Wannabe's hugging one of the heifer's mumu's to her scrawny chest and sobbing like there's no tomorrow. I'd be sick of it if I wasn't enjoying her pain so much. But there's so much more pain to enjoy. Because my Goddess isn't going to let me stay like this, She's going to see to it that Her daughter is restored, and when that happens, there'll be hell to pay.
I smile as best I can with this fuzzy, hated face, then curl up into a ball, drifting off to sleep and dreaming of that day. It's going to be so sweet.