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I Don’t Like Tuesdays.

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Summary: ‘And school's out early and soon we'll be learning and the lesson today is how to die.’ Dawn reacts badly to discovering she’s The Key. Dark with character death. Based on the song, ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Miscellaneous > Music(Recent Donor)DaveTurnerFR1515,70011492822 May 1022 May 10Yes
I Don’t Like Tuesdays.
By Dave Turner.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Buffyverse or the song ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’ which was written my Bob Geldof and performed by ‘The Boomtown Rats’. I write these stories for fun not profit.

Crossover: Music-fic. The Buffyverse with ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’.

Spelling, Grammar and Punctuation; Written in glorious English-English. American idioms are used throughout this fic.

Timeline: BtVS season 5, based loosely on the episode ‘Blood Ties’.

Words: Story, 5000+ words.

Warnings: Dark. Character death.

‘And school's out early and soon we'll be learning and the lesson today is how to die.’ Dawn reacts badly to discovering she’s The Key. Dark with character death. Based on the song, ‘I Don’t Like Mondays’.

‘The silicon chip inside her head
Gets switched to overload.’

Lying on her bed, Dawn twisted the leg of her old stuffed toy in her hand. Her life was over, finished before it’d really had a chance to begin; she’d existed (she couldn’t bring herself to say ‘lived’) for a mere six months. The other thirteen and a half years she’d thought she’d ‘existed’ had been false, a lie, bogus. This was like finding out you’d been adopted only so, so much more shocking.

It had all started on Sunday, Buffy’s birthday no-less, Dawn had noticed how everyone, with the possible exception of Xander, were acting real weird around her. It was like they knew a secret about her (which by then they all did) and they weren’t going to let her in on it. The paranoia had bubbled up inside Dawn and she’d convinced herself that all Buffy’s friends were talking about her and worse yet; her mother was in on the secret too.

There’d been the row at Buffy’s party and Dawn had ended up storming off to her room. She’d thought she’d heard her mom, Buffy and Mr Giles talking about her in the kitchen. She’d tried to eavesdrop but Buffy’s ‘stupid’ slayer hearing had caught her breathing or something. Not long after that there’d been another argument which had ended up with her slamming her bedroom door behind her and sulking on her bed; much as she was doing now.

It was then, after she’d calmed down a little that Dawn had decided to try and find out what was going on. If no one was going to tell her, she needed to find out for herself. She’d climbed out her bedroom window and down into the garden where she’d bumped into Spike who’d been lurking in the bushes. It’d been surprisingly easy to convince him to come with her and help break into the ‘Magic Box’. It was there she’d seen Giles hide some note books which she felt sure would explain what was going on and why everyone was acting screwy around her.

Spike had got the door to the shop open easily enough; oddly Giles hadn’t had a burglar alarm fitted. Whatever, Dawn soon found the books and she and Spike had sat on the floor behind the counter reading Giles’ tiny writing by candle light. It was then that she’d found out she wasn’t real; she was some sort of ‘key’ a blob of energy. Everything that she thought was real wasn’t. Some monks had sent her to her mom and Buffy so they’d look after her, so that Buffy would guard her with her life. Her family didn’t love her, she was nothing, a thing something that had to be guarded from some stupid demon creature.

Leaving Spike in the shop, Dawn had run for home, she was real, everything that she’d always known and believed couldn’t be a lie could it? She’d climbed up to her window and back into the house. In a daze she’d walked on down to the kitchen; she’d taken one of the big kitchen knives and cut her arm; she’d watched as the blood had oozed from the wound.

There, she thought, there, that was real blood, she wasn’t just a thing she was real, only real things bleed she’d told herself. She’d wondered into the living room where Buffy, Willow and Tara sat talking quietly.

“Is this blood?” Dawn had asked as the tears started to fill her eyes, her mother and Buffy rushed to her side and started to ask questions. “This is blood, isn’t it?” she’d asked again, “It can’t be me, I’m not the key. I’m not a thing.” Dawn looked into her mother’s eyes, “What am I? Am I real? Am I anything?”

Her mother tried to hug her and comfort her, but a mother’s love wouldn’t heal the wounds in Dawn’s heart.


Monday and Dawn was really no better, the same thoughts kept flying around her head; she wasn’t real, she was a thing a blob of energy…nothing. Once again her mother tried to make things right, but Dawn wasn’t having any of it. She’d yelled at her mother saying that she wasn’t her real mom and stormed out of the house and headed to school, even though blobs of energy probably didn’t need an education.

School had been almost as bad as home; she couldn’t explain to anybody what was happening to her, they’d think she was insane and just send her back home. As it turned out she got sent home anyway. She yelled at Mr Jones in Biology and Principal Stevens suspended her for the rest of the week. Getting home she’d managed to avoid both Buffy and her mother. She’d not felt hungry (did energy blobs need to eat?) so she’d sneaked up stairs to her room which was where she now lay.

If she lay still and listened very carefully she could just hear her mother and Buffy talking down stairs. Rolling over she sat up, pushing her hair away from her reddened eyes she got up and walked over to her bedroom door. Careful not to make a sound (Buffy’s super-hearing was a real ‘pain’) she opened the door and snuck out into the corridor.

Standing at the top of the stairs she could hear her mother talking to Buffy.

“She yelled at a teacher,” her mother sounded really upset, Dawn told herself she didn’t care, “the things she said, Buffy, she’s never used language like that before.”

Dawn laughed quietly to herself, if that was all her so-called mother had to worry about she was in for a big surprise.

“She probably feels like she can say or do anything right now,” this was Buffy speaking. “She’s not real. We’re not her family. We don’t even know what she is.”

Her sister’s words cut into Dawn deeper than any knife could, she wasn’t real she was nothing just a thing to be guarded. Turning Dawn found her way back to her room though tear blurred eyes; she slammed the door behind her and locked it. With a scream she rushed across her room and started to throw things onto the floor. She tore her posters from the walls and sent family photographs spinning through the air to smash into the walls. She watched as the glass in the frames shattered to lie in glittering shards on her carpet.

Finally she collected together all her diaries, the same diaries she’d been writing since she’d been seven. Now there was a joke, her agonised mind told her, she’d never been seven. Every word in those diaries was a lie, they were fake just like her. At first she tried to rip the books up but they proved to be tougher than they looked. With a cry of despair and frustration she hurled them into her rubbish bin.

Emptying the contents of her desk drawer she found a book of matches, striking them she waited for all the matches to ignite before throwing them into the metal bin. Turning around she quickly grabbed her jacket and school bag; seeing that the contents of her bin were well alight she ran over to her window and climbed out onto the roof. Sliding down the roof she carefully let herself down into the garden. With one last look over her shoulder at what had been her home, Dawn ran off into the darkness.

She’d show them all that she was real; hadn’t Buffy said, “She probably feels like she can say or do anything right now.” Well, she was going to do something that would prove she was who she had always thought she was. They’d all be sad that they’d lied to her and been mean to her, she’d make them all pay…starting with school tomorrow.


“Spike?” Dawn carefully pushed the door to Spike’s crypt open.

“Oh, bloody hell,” came the familiar voice from the dim interior, “if it’s not one bloody Summers sister it’s the other.”

Taking this as an invitation, Dawn pushed the door all the way open and stepped down into Spike’s home.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Spike strode across the crypt to where his duster lay draped over the back of a chair, “I was just off out.”

“I need your help,” Dawn gave the vampire her best ‘down trodden little sister' look.

“Again?” Spike obviously wasn’t best pleased to see Dawn, “What’s it this time? More breaking and entering? Coz if it is I’m having nothing to do with it, your bloody sister burst in here and nearly…”


“Yeah, the same,” Spiked stopped what he was doing and really looked at Dawn for the first time, his tone changed dramatically, “she been having a go at you too, niblet?”

“Yeah,” Dawn let her shoulders slump, “she went totally insane when she found out that I knew I was this ‘key’ thing.”

“Yeah,” Spike chuckled, “y’should’ve seen her when she came busting in here,” he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth, “nearly ruined me nails.”

Dawn ignored the ‘nails’ comment and took a step or two closer to Spike.

“I need your help to get back at her,” Dawn told the vampire.

“What?” Spike lit his cigarette, “Y’know with this damn chip in me head I can’t lay a finger on her?”

“Yeah but I can,” Dawn smiled up into Spike’s eyes.

“Don’t be a silly bint!” Spike laughed and turned away to pick something up, “She’d beat you to a pulp before you threw the first punch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dawn nodded her head urgently, “like I’ve thought of that. That’s why I need to get something to help even the odds to make her pay for what she’s done…”

To make everybody pay, Dawn added to herself.

“Okay,” Spike turned back to look at Dawn; she could see that he was interested in a little pay back himself, “what’ve you got in mind?”

“Tell you later,” Dawn turned towards the door, “come-on lets go. Buffy’s bound to come looking for me and this is like the first place she’ll look.”

Stuffing his hands into his pockets Spike shrugged under his coat. This could be fun; it’d be nice to see Buffy taken down a peg or two. A moment later he was following Dawn out into the night.


Staring up at the shop front, Dawn turned angrily to face Spike.

“I didn’t mean this sort of porn shop!”

“Sorry luv,” Spike smirked as he drew on his cigarette, “easy mistake to make.”

Dawn bit her tongue and stifled the angry come-back she’d been about to let fly with; she needed Spike for a while longer, once he’d served his purpose she’d cut him loose.


It seemed none of the storekeepers in Sunnydale fitted burglar alarms to their premises. Spike had opened the rear door to the pawn shop with his shoulder. They walked through the shop examining the goods on display.

“What’s it you’re after then, luv?” Spike lit another cigarette.

“Those,” Dawn smiled as she pointed at a case full of handguns.

“Bloody hell!” Spike gasped as the cigarette fell from his mouth, “What do’y’ want with one of those? Not thinking of killing anyone, are you?”

“No,” Dawn shook her head as she bent to look more closely at the weapons, “I just want Buffy to take me seriously,” she lied, “make her notice me.”

Prove that I’m real, her mind added.

“Yeah, well,” Spike crouched down next to Dawn and ran his eye over the weapons on show, “one of those’ll surely do it. Big sis musta really pissed you off.”

“You wouldn’t believe how much,” Dawn replied through gritted teeth, “are you going to help me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Spike grinned as he imagined the look on Buffy’s face when she saw her pistol packin’ sister coming for her, “hey,” Spike frowned as he thought of something, “you’re not goin’ to shoot her, right?”

“No, Spike,” Dawn sighed and forced a grin; truly she wasn’t going to shoot her sister; Buffy would just wish she had. “I’m not going to shoot Buffy.”

“Okay then,” Spike stood up and jumped over the counter, “as long as we’ve got that straight.”

He ripped open the door at the back of the gun cabinet and started to place the handguns on the counter.

“Now lets see if there’s anything to suit,” Spike thought that if Dawn wanted to see it through (whatever ‘it’ was exactly) she might as well have something that worked. “Here,” he passed Dawn a smallish pistol, “how does that feel? Heavy?”

“A little,” Dawn hefted the weapon in her hand, it seemed to fit there perfectly and it wasn’t really that heavy she just wasn’t used to it…yet.

“What about this one?” Spike handed her another gun similar to the first.

Dawn took the pistol in her other hand and examined it, it felt good, it felt powerful.


“Wanna go all the way, eh?” Spike grinned at the double meaning.

“Sure, why not?” Dawn shrugged and smiled back, “What have I got to lose?”

It took Spike several minutes to find rounds for the pistols and a couple of extra clips. He didn’t ask why Dawn wanted all the extra stuff. He had a vague idea about talking the girl out of whatever she was planning on doing and using the guns himself. Grabbing the pistols, clips and boxes of ammo Dawn stuffed them into her school bag and followed Spike back to his crypt.


Once back at his home, Spike, humoured Dawn by showing her how to load the guns and explained how to fire them. He showed her how to put fresh rounds into the clips and what to do if the pistols jammed for any reason. Dawn soaked up the knowledge like a sponge and before she knew it was nearly two in the morning. Spike had just gone out for some blood so Dawn took the opportunity to pack up the guns and ammo. Deciding she would be safer somewhere else she took her bag and headed out into the night.

Coming back to his crib, Spike swore horribly when he found that Dawn had gone. For a moment he even considered going to find Buffy and her cartoon friends but had second thoughts. He knew as soon as the words ‘Dawn’ and ‘guns’ were out of his mouth she’d be beating on him like nobodies business. No, Dawn would turn up one way or the other. He decided to leave it for Buffy to sort out.

“Sod her!” he snarled as he sat down to watch a late film and enjoy his pig’s blood, “Should’a been nicer to the niblet.”


And all the playing's stopped in the playground now
She wants to play with the toys a while.

The bell for class rang stridently waking Dawn from a fitful sleep. For a moment she wondered why her bedroom was so dark and why her alarm clock was so loud. It was only when she'd raised her head from the gym mat she'd been using as a pillow that she realised she wasn't in her room or even in her house.

Sitting up and yawning she looked around the store room where she'd spent the night; it was located at the back of the gym. A refuge for pupils cutting classes and old tired pieces of gym equipment like the dusty, old mats she'd used as a bed. She’d climbed in through the window (the catch had been broken for years) and spent the night there after leaving Spike's crypt.

Standing up she looked around her musty sleeping quarters and for a moment wondered what her mother was doing right now. Dawn guiltily dismissed the thought that her mother might be panicking on finding her youngest daughter missing. She'd no doubt be glad to have Dawn off her hands. Buffy would be the one panicking but only because she'd lost 'the key'.

Checking the guns were still in her bag, Dawn carefully opened the door and looked out at the empty gym. She could hear her one time fellow students in the distance but it would be sometime before anyone would be using the gym or the locker rooms. Putting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she opened the door wide and made her way across the polished wooden floor towards the locker rooms.

Her footsteps seemed incredibly loud to her ears, how could anyone fail to hear her? Dawn smelt the faint smell of floor polish and the stronger aroma of sweat and old socks that seemed to permeate locker rooms the world over. It was as if all her senses had been heightened, the sun shone brightly through the windows as she realised that if her plan went the way she thought it would; today would be her last day at this or any fact her last day anywhere.


The sound of the toilet cistern flushing sounded incredibly loud, however it was a worthwhile risk. It wouldn't do to have to stop for a 'bathroom break' half way through what she’d planned. Standing in front of the mirror above the hand basins, Dawn looked at her reflection. She brushed some hair from her face and studied her reddened eyes. Lack of sleep and all the crying lately had made them red and puffy. She splashed cold water on to her face and felt marginally better. She felt tired, she'd had maybe three hours of fitful sleep the previous night, but that didn't mater now. Soon she'd be sleeping forever.

Soon she wouldn't have to worry about being real, or whether her mother or her sister loved her. For a moment she felt the tears start to well up in her eyes, she wanted to run home and tell her mom that she was sorry and how much she loved her. She wanted to bury her face in her mother's hair and be a little girl again...but...

But, she'd never been a little girl; all those memories of birthdays, Christmas' and holidays weren't real, just like her. Dawn ruthlessly crushed these feeling as she angrily dashed the tears from her eyes. She told herself that no one would care, no one would miss her, she wasn't real so why should they? Only Buffy would care and then only because she'd failed to protect the key.

Pulling her hair back from her face, Dawn took the pistols from her bag. She hid one in the waistband of her jeans behind her back like she'd seen in the movies. The box of spare bullets she put in the pocket of her jacket. The two spare clips, as Spike had called them, she put in her pocket on the opposite side from the box. Spike had said that the spare clips would fit either pistol so she wouldn't have to worry about them jamming. Holding the remaining pistol in her hand Dawn wondered where the best place to hide it would be. She laughed at herself for being silly.

“What does it matter?” she told her refection, “They're gonna notice when I start shooting the...”

Again Dawn laughed at herself when she realised she didn't know a suitable swearword. Here she was about to go out and cause mayhem and death and she didn't even know how to swear properly. Leaving her bag behind, and holding her pistol down by her leg, Dawn walked out into the corridor with a smile on her lips.


‘And school's out early and soon we'll be learning
And the lesson today is how to die.’

The corridors were empty and Dawn started to panic, maybe someone had seen her and evacuated the school? Perhaps there was no school today, perhaps....

Dawn took a deep breath, of course no one was in the corridors, everyone would be in class. She hauled back on the pistol's slide loading the first round just like Spike had shown her.

“Now where to start?” she asked herself.

“Miss Summers?” a familiar voice came from behind her; Dawn grinned the decision had been taken from her and she turned to face the school principal, Mrs Stevens.

“I thought I'd suspended you for the rest of the week,” Principal Stevens walked briskly towards Dawn only coming up short when she saw the gun in Dawn's hand.

Dawn heard her blood thunder in her ears as her heart hammered in her chest, she'd been stupid to think she could do this. Maybe if she just dropped the gun and ran home everything would be okay. So, she might get yelled at but they'd all be so glad to see her home safe and sound nothing bad would happen to her and...

As if of its own accord the gun went off in her hand. She'd not realised it would be so loud and it bucked so hard that it hurt her wrist. Transferring the weapon to her other hand, Dawn shook the feeling back into her right hand and rubbed her wrist. She remembered too late something Spike had said about using two hands.

Looking up from her numbed hand, Dawn only then noticed Mrs Stevens. She'd already slumped to her knees; she looked down at the large red flower that had blossomed on her chest. The look of shocked surprise on her face was so comical it made Dawn giggle out loud. Pulling herself together, Dawn looked into Mrs Steven's shocked eyes before raising the pistol again and firing twice more. The woman was knocked onto her back to lie on the floor in an expanding pool of blood. Dawn looked down at her one time Principal, the woman who had until recently ruled her every school day.

“Coool!” she breathed quietly; it had been so easy she wondered why she'd never done this before.

The sound of doors opening and footsteps on the corridor floor woke Dawn from her daydream. She saw George, one of the school janitors run up to where Mrs Stevens lay. He knelt down beside her as he'd looked up at Dawn. His puzzled frown soon turned to a look of horror as Dawn pointed the pistol at him as she fired twice more. One bullet hit him in the left arm drawing a cry of pain from his lips, the other flew over his head and buried itself in the wall.

Suddenly the world seemed to be alive with the sound of screams and running students. Children boiled out of the classrooms and into the corridor, Dawn fired wildly quickly emptying the rest of the bullets in the clip. She saw one or two pupils go down, sprawling across the corridor floor to be trampled by their classmates. Here and there a member of staff tried to stem the panic but they were soon washed away as the torrent of students headed for the exits.

Walking briskly along the corridor herding the school kids before her, Dawn quickly changed clips. She came to a junction and stopped; she watched the students run off ahead of her. Her plan required a hostage, it didn't really matter who the hostage was but Dawn had an idea who she wanted if she had a choice.


Someone called her name from down the corridor on her left; turning she saw her art teacher crouching over the body of a fallen student. The woman looked at her horrified as Dawn raised her gun. The teacher’s face disintegrated in a welter of blood and smashed bone as her head exploded. Once again Dawn smiled, she really needed to get on and find the girl she was looking for before it was too late, the police would be here soon.

As luck would have it, Dawn hadn't walked more than a few dozen yards when she saw the flash of blonde hair in a crowd of students who were attempting to hide in a restroom. Even if it wasn't the girl she was after the kids in the restroom would make handy hostages.

Walking up to the door, Dawn fired twice through the wood, she heard renewed screams from the other side as she pushed open the door. She almost tripped over the body of a groaning student who lay bleeding on the floor just inside the door. Dawn ignored him and walked further into the room to scan the panicking kids with hard eyes.

“COME-ON GUYS!” a voice called from her right, “RUSH HER!”

Turning, Dawn shot her would be assailant between the eyes. This had the desired effect of forestalling any attempt at attacking her.

“Freaking hell!” Dawn gasped as she saw where her bullet had hit, she'd not even been trying to aim.

Everyone was crying or begging her not to kill them; Dawn looked at the terrified, tear streaked faces and saw the girl she was after.

“Come here Kirstie,” Dawn was surprised at how calm her voice sounded, “move it before I get bored and start shooting again.”


Climbing out of his car, Captain Rogers, commander of the Sunnydale PD's SWAT unit watched as children ran from the school buildings in front of him.

“GET THOSE KIDS OUTTA HERE!” he yelled to his men.

The black clad officers advanced on the panicking school children and started to usher them to safety. He turned at the sound of sirens behind him, ambulances were starting to arrive, good, he thought. They could look after the kids, he turned to his sergeant.

“Once we've got the kids out of the way, we'll try and find out what the hells goin' on in there. Until then set up a cordon 'round the school.”

The sergeant nodded and ran off to collect officers for his boss’ cordon. Rogers raised a pair of binoculars to his eyes and swept them over the school building. He'd have to wait for orders from the mayor but he expected he'd be leading an assault on the school before the day was out. Letting his binoculars fall onto his chest he turned towards his car and picked up the microphone for his radio. He'd be needing the blue prints for the school.


“You know you don’t have to do this Ms Summers?” Captain Rogers handed Buffy a bullet proof jacket.

“Yes I do,” Buffy replied sombrely as she deftly handed the jacket back to the police captain, she wouldn’t need it.

The police had arrived at her house about half an hour before; they’d explained that Dawn had shot her school principal and another teacher plus several students. She was now holding a girl hostage and was demanding to speak to Buffy.

“She’s in the dinning hall,” explained Rogers, “just try and find out what she wants. Get her to let the hostage go and come out if you can. But if you feel you’re in any danger get out…we don’t need anymore bodies today.”

“Don’t worry,” Buffy turned to the policeman and forced a smile, “I’ll get her to come out, she’ll listen to me.”

“I hope so,” Rogers led Buffy to the entrance of the school where he left her before heading back to his command centre; he really hoped he hadn’t given the younger Summers girl another hostage.

Rejoining his men Rogers picked up his binoculars and focused them on the dining hall. The younger Summers girl was standing in just the wrong spot for his snipers to get a clear shot. The mayor had said he wanted this siege over with as quickly as possible and without any more ‘innocent’ casualties. If that meant shooting the Summers girl (if she didn’t do everyone a favour and blow her own brains out) the mayor would support any action Rogers thought necessary.

“Snipers report no clear shot yet, sir,” Rogers’ sergeant had come up behind him.

“Tell them to stand-by,” whispered Rogers, “we’ll see what happens when her sister gets there.”


Standing in the shadows at the back of the dinning hall, Dawn looked up to see Buffy standing in the doorway on the other side of the hall.

“You’re here then?” Dawn glanced back to were Kirstie stood sobbing into her hands and blocking the view of anybody on the gym roof opposite the dinning hall.

“Yeah,” Buffy took a cautious step into the hall, “what’s going on, Dawn?”

“HA!” Dawn laughed humourlessly, the sound of her voice echoing around the hall and drawing an extra loud sob from Kirstie, “What’s going on, yeah…” Dawn shook her head before speaking again, “Hey, Kirstie get going…you’re free, Hero Buffy is here at last.”

“NO!” Kirstie turned and backed away from Dawn, “You’ll shoot me…”

“No I won’t,” Dawn was surprised by Kirstie’s reaction, “But I’ll tell you what I will do…I’ll shoot you if you stay!”

Sobbing loudly, Kirstie ran for the door as Dawn raised the pistol in her hand and fired; the bullet caught the blonde girl in the back. She crashed to the floor sending tables and chairs flying in all directions.

“DAWN!” Buffy took a couple of quick steps towards her sister but drew up short as Dawn turned and pointed her pistol at her sister. “You said…”

“I lied, you know all about lying, don’t you?” sneered Dawn, “And stay where you are, you’re fast, Buffy,” Dawn grinned, “but are you faster than a speeding bullet? I’m betting I can pull the trigger before you can get anywhere near me…and you know I might get totally lucky. Bullets kill slayers just like they do normal people.”

“Dawn,” Buffy gauged the distance between Dawn and herself; Dawn was right, the distance was too great she wouldn’t get to her before she could fire and maybe Dawn would get lucky. “Dawn,” Buffy spoke deliberately and held out her hand, “give me the gun,”

“Umm,” Dawn gave the impression of thinking about handing over her weapon, “y’know? I don’t think I will.”

“Why Dawn,” Buffy took a slow, careful half step towards her sister, “why are you doing this?”

“To prove I’m real,” Dawn replied through gritted teeth, “to show you, show everyone that I’m not just a thing to be guarded and used.”

“But Dawn,” Buffy took another half step towards her sister, another couple of yards and she might have a chance of grabbing the gun, “of course you’re real, you’re my little sister. I love you, mom loves you.”

“Yeah sure!” Dawn let the gun drop to her side, “Like sure you love me…‘She’s not real’,” Dawn spat the words into Buffy’s face. “‘We’re not her family. We don’t even know what she is’, remember?”

“Oh my god!” Buffy gasped, shocked to her very core, “Is that what this is about?”

“That’s a good enough reason isn’t it?” Dawn took a deliberate step towards her sister allowing the marksmen on the roof opposite to get a clear line of sight on her. Dawn pointed her pistol at Buffy’s head, “What reason do you need to die?”

Buffy watched in horror as Dawn’s head exploded, a fraction of a second later she heard the report of the rifle shot. A great moan of anguish escaped her lips as she dropped to her knees next to her sister’s body and the room filled up with police.



Copy and paste the following to your favourite search engine to hear the Boomtown Rats perform ‘I don’t like Mondays’.;;xyaiZW0r7D0

Here are the words to the song.

‘I Don’t Like Mondays’.

The silicon chip inside her head
Gets switched to overload
And nobody’s gonna go to school today
She’s gonna make them stay at home
And daddy doesn’t understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reason do you need to be show-ow-ow-ow-own?

Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down

The Telex machine is kept so clean
And it types to a waiting world
And mother feels so shocked
Father’s world is rocked
And their thoughts turn to their own little girl
Sweet 16 ain’t that peachy keen
Now that ain’t so neat to admit defeat
They can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reasons do you need?
Oh Oh Oh Oh

Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot
The whole day down, down, down, shoot it all down

And all the playing's stopped in the playground now
She wants to play with the toys a while
And school's out early and soon we'll be learning
And the lesson today is how to die
And then the bullhorn crackles
And the captain tackles
(With the problems of the how's and why's)
And he can see no reasons
'Cos there are no reasons
What reason do you need to die, die?
Oh Oh Oh

Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like
I don’t like (Tell me why)
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don’t like
I don’t like (Tell me why)
I don’t like Mondays
Tell me why
I don't like Mondays
I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oot the whole day down

The End

You have reached the end of "I Don’t Like Tuesdays.". This story is complete.

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