Our New Life

Rescued

I wake up to a thumping noise. It's as loud as a firecracker. Not again. I guess I can't ever get out of this routine. I open my eyes and stand up. I can see the light coming in from outside my purple igloo. I crawl out glaring at another giant. This one wears purple squares on its face. Glasses. And it's chest has two large bumps. Breasts. I've heard the older rats call those giants girls. This girl is tall. It taps on the clear wall separating us. She could be a friend but did she have to wake me up? Oh, well. I strut outside and my tail stands up. Her jaw drops. She moves away to talk to another person who I see every day in a blue polo shirt and beige pants. She's shorter than the girl she talks to. The other girl takes out a key and cramps it in a slit too far above the clear wall so I can't see where it goes. My whole world in the clear box moves. I fall over. What's wrong with these girls? Then I feel a warm finger slip under me. Then another. And two more after that. A short finger falls on my back. I'm being picked up! I've never been picked up. The older rats told me to want to be picked up, but this is scaring me. First my front paws leave the ground. I start shaking. Then my back legs leave and I can't help but try to squirm out. But another hand clamps around my body. Now I'm secure and can't go anywhere. I don't try to struggle. There's no point. Then the hands release me and I slide into another pair of hands. But these hands don't clamp around me and feel awkward. These hands create a platform for me. I like this. No, I love this. I lick her hands and she gasps. I like making her happy.

"So, is this the one you want or not?" says the woman with a scowl.

"Yes, please!" says the girl almost like she's about to pee."I'll need to get him a buddy!"

"It's a girl," she says with a snarl,"Which other one do you want?" she sounds exhausted or annoyed.

The girl runs to the end of the aisle to where the other rats are."This one is cute!"

"That one has a tumor!"

"Oh,"the girl looks at her shoe and kicks the ground. I'm still in her arms."What about the grey one next to it?"

"They all got tumors, and growths, and diseases! Those are the bad ones," she explains sounding annoyed."You can only chose from the ones in here," she points at the clear box I was taken out of.

"Okay! Can I have the little black and white one?"

The lady snatches Eight from our box and throws her in a small cardboard box. Rats are named by numbers. I am nine. Eight and I have always been best friends. I'm glad we get to start our new life together. Two cardboard flaps close over us and latch together. All I can see is blackness and occasional light falling through holes carved into the walls.