Young Writers Society

                   "Come on guys, I don't want any trouble..."  Rat warned, her voice low, trying hard to stand her guard. It was hard to keep up such bravado when she was surrounded by three cats: a Siamese, a Russian Blue and a fat Maine Coon in between them. Their claws glinted like silver daggers, their wide hips and thick tails swaying as they walked, cornering the small rat.

                "We ain't causin' any trouble, Rat...:" snarked the Maine Coon with a toothy grin. "You rats are the ones who bring trouble for the rest of us, filthy little shits...."

                ":We'd be better off if you were all poisoned..." The Russian Blue piped up, his voice low and his accent thick. 

              "Stop being such a Pussy, cat." Rat hissed. The three cats, ears pulled back and fur on end, pounced in unison, crushing the little rat with their tremendous weight. The obese Maine Coon sat down on her chest, pressing his weight into her, crushing her ribs and cutting off her airway. The Russian Blue held her paws down and clamped his teeth over her ear. Rat screamed out in pain, trying her hardest to wriggle and squeeze herself out from under them, but her head got knocked back against the pavement, making her see stars, as the Siamese bashed her head in like a cat toy. Sadly, this situation was not new to Rat, in fact, it was far too familiar. Feeling her own hot and sticky blood staining her ashy-grey fur, she started to lose consciousness, until a shot rang out and the weight of the Maine Coon was lifted off of her chest.

           He lay on the cement, a gaping wound in his chest, blood clumping up his fur. At the sound of the shot, the two other cats had run off. Rat knelt in front of the dead cat, until a voice spoke up.

            " Sweetie, you're hurt, come with me." It was a sweet and feminine voice. Looking up with wide eyes, Rat saw another rat looking down at her, extending a paw to help her up. This other girl was tall, had snowy white fur and striking, big, blue eyes. A black and white crown was perched atop her head and she had a sweet look to her. But, despite her sweet looking nature, Rat couldn't ignore the fact that she was carrying a gun in her other paw, the smoke coming from the barrel making her realize that it was this girl who had saved her from her attackers.

            Rat quickly took her paw and let herself be helped up, still too weak to stand on her own. The white rat took the smaller girl into her arms and they walked quickly in silence. After a while of walking, they came upon a large mountain side filled with rocks and forest life and Rat could see a small house built into the side-face of mountain. Fishing a small key from out of her coat pocket, she opened the door and led them in. Neither of them spoke as she led Rat onto the couch and with a warm, damp cloth began to clean her blood and cuts. Rat spoke up.

             "Thank you, for saving me, I mean...you shot him, didn't you?" 

             "No need to thank me. I did shoot him," her eyes darted to her gun she had set on the table, "but if I didn't he would've killed you." she explained. 

               "Thank you, I owe you my life, no ones ever done anything like that for me." she breathed out slowly, still feeling very shaken. "I'm sorry I-I never caught your name." 

              "Ratty D." she replied, extending a paw in greeting.

              " I really have to thank you, Ratty D, I would've been dead without you. I don't know anybody who would do that for me." D looked up at the rat with a small smile. 

                 "Well then, it's time you start hanging around some better people." She smiled. "I never got your name either." The other girl shook her big ears awkwardly. 

                  "Rat." she said plainly. Ratty D raised an eyebrow. 

                   "No, really, whats your name?" she shrugged her shoulders and scrunched up her nose before responding. 

                    "Just Rat. That's what they've always called me. My uh...my parents, they um...they abandoned me before they could name me and all the cats just called me Rat, so I kind of just took that up." She looked away, embarrassed. Ratty D did not look upon her with pity, did not say a word, but instead moved closer to clean the wound on her forehead.

                        "What were you doing in that horrible town anyways? It's overrun with cats, an awful and toxic place for rats to live!"

                         "I don't have anywhere else to go." Rat sighed. "It's not that bad." she was lying through her teeth, it was that bad and even worse, but she continued on. "I try to find things to look forward too." Ratty D raised an eyebrow again.

                         "Like what?" she sassed, a paw on her hip.

                          "Well...There's Mr. Frattellis." Rat began to explain to her. Mr. Frattellis was the local bakery run by an old Irish bassethound, Mr. Fratelli himself. He sold all sorts of goodies and treats and all the little pups and kittens would flock to his store for a sweet after-school snack. When the children had left, the leftover snack cakes would be thrown away in the dumpster outside. When Rat had learned hits, she never liked to steal, but she was starving, so she would steal whatever cakes she could get from the dumpster. One day, the old dog found her outback taking food. Instead of chasing her off or calling the Canine Unit on her, he invited her inside. He baked her fresh brownies filled with candies and sent her on her way with a fresh batch. Now every year on her birthday, Rat would show up at his backdoor and there he would be, plate of fresh brownies in his arthritic paws and smile on his dropping jowls to see the young rogue he had come to call his daughter. It was one of the few things that made life bearable for Rat because it meant she had something to look forward too. 

          "That's so sweet." crooned Ratty D. "When is your birthday anyways?" Rat giggled and rolled her eyes.

            " People already think I'm bad luck for being a rat, the only believe it even more when I tell them my birthday is Friday the Thirteenth." Ratty D flailed and clapped her paws together excitedly. She grinned wildly and took Rats face in her paws. 

              "That's it, That's it!! We'll call you Friday! Everybody has to have a proper name after all! You'll be Friday!" the smaller girl scurried over to a small mirror hanging on the wall and looked at herself closely. 

               "Friday." she said, tasting the name on her lips and seeing how it fit her face. "Friday." she grinned, her wild fur falling in her face. "I like that." Finally, she had her own name.

              "Don't listen to any wuss-puss who calls you a rat, you're more than just a rat. Pretty face like yours deserves a nice name." Ratty D smiled. Friday felt her cheek fur heating up and her stomach do a flip when she heard her speak. " Now come on, Friday, lets finish getting you all cleaned up, there's a spot of blood on your right cheek that I just can't seem to get it off!" Friday giggled and squeaked. 

              "That's not blood, silly! That's my birthmark!" she had the red spot on her cheek for as long as she could remember. Ratty D gently caressed her cheek.

               "How strange...It's in the exact shape of a heart..." the two girls smiled back at each other, before awkwardly letting go of the others grasp. 

                    "Well, It's late, you should rest, I have an extra room in the back, stay the night here, I'm not letting you go back to that alley." Friday was too tired to argue and was too grateful to have someone looking out for her, so she followed her to the back of the house. It was a small, cozy little room with a bed just big enough for Friday. Ratty D pulled out a heap of blankets and comforters. 

                       "I hope these are okay, I have more in case you get cold." she said worriedly.

                 "These are perfect, thank you, for everything." Ratty D turned down the hall to head to her room, but Friday blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

                 "Why are you being so kind to me? you've barely just met me and I'm just a dirty street rat..."  Ratty D sighed and stepped closer to her, tucking a small strand of loose fur behind her ear. 

                  "No one should die just because they were born a certain way. You're more than just a rat." she said sweetly. Friday turned her face away, not wanting D to see her on the brink of tears, no one had ever said anything that nice to her in her entire life. 

                         "Thank you so much, I could never repay you for all of this." they turned their gazes away from each other shyly. Before either one could speak, Ratty D leaned forward and planted a quick little kiss on Fridays cheek, right on her heart, and she dashed out of the room, turning off the light with a sweep of her tail. Friday sat up in bed, speechless, her blush obvious even in the dark. Burrowing into the covers, she realized the blankets smelled so much like Ratty D. She buried her muzzle into them, taking in that sweet scent and the soft feel of them, that for the first time in a long time, Friday felt safe and happy and like someone actually cared about her. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.