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Nega-Eric

By Eric Tang



Prompt: Write about your opposite.

The day started off with the state’s hottest radio station blasting on the radio. Princess Nega-Eric sprung out of bed. She was well rested, full of energy, and excited for the Monday. It took her a few hours to put on her face, and do her hair, and choose an outfit which wouldn’t get her sent down to the principal (even though no one would have dared to send her to the principal), but she had plenty of time because she had woken up so early. By the time she was in her dandelion colored truck, she was a solid 10/10. She smiled at herself in the rear view mirror and pulled out into the street. As she drove, it seemed all the evils of the world disappeared. Not that there was anything wrong to begin with, it was a beautiful day.

As always, Nega-Eric made it to school on time. The obnoxious bass of that new dance mix announced her arrival as it registered a 6.9 on the richter scale. Her presence shook the people around her. Nega-Eric saw some of her friends in the parking lot of her school.

Haiii,” she shouted from three feet away.

Heeey guuurl,” said the friend, “You’re looking really blonde today.”

“O.M.G., thanks.”

“Are you ready to party tonight?”

“You know I am! I’ll be right over after my rigourous sports practice, go to the young republicans meeting, and have sex with my hot S.O. who is totally real and into me.”

“Wow, your life sounds totally cool and not at all antisocial. Tonight is going to be so much fun, Nega-Eric.”

-

“We won!” screamed Nega-Eric, as her teammate scored a mediocre two pointer. The referees looked to the crowd, who forced a cheer.

Nega-Eric’s team picked her up on their shoulders and carried her off her court. She had tripped and hurt her knee. “Which one of you knocked the princess down?” asked one of the referees. The opposing team held their hands behind their backs. The crowd had gone silent again. “Well, if no one wants to confess, then I guess you’ll all have to pay." Nega-Eric didn’t hear the bashing; she was too busy nursing the bruise on her knee in the clinic.

It was getting dark by the time Nega-Eric finished at the court and arrived at the convention hall. The meeting had already finished. She spotted her friend walking down the steps. “What happened at the meeting?” asked Nega-Eric.

“Oh, not much,” said the friend, “Your dad basically said we had to be more dedicated and orderly, so he radicalized the party. We’re now the national socialist party now.”

“I can’t believe I missed it.”

“Well, we still have to put the new flag up. You can help me do that if you want.”

“I’d love to help out. I always love to help out.”

Nega-Eric unrolled the red banners across the front of the hall. In the square before her, several people were carrying bodies from various corners. Thin trails of blood were drawn into the dirt leading to the center, creating an intricate red spider web with blood at the center mixing in a puddle of gasoline. Nega-Eric found it hard to concentrate with the acrid smoke blowing into her eyes. She was, however, thankful that she wouldn’t miss her date.

Her boyfriend met her on the steps as she rolled down the last flag. “You ready babe?”

“Hells yea, let’s go!”

But before they could get to their car, they were approached by a crawling man. This was a strange man who looked sort of like a corpse. It felt like his eyes were empty holes but he could find Nega-Eric fine so it was probably okay. “Help- Us!” His voice came out in haggard puffs. He stretched his bony hand out to the princess. “Don’t let this happen!”

“This guy’s weird, you want me to get rid of him?” asked Nega-Eric’s boyfriend. She nodded. Nega-Eric’s boyfriend raised his iron-soled leather boot over the man’s head. The man didn’t even feel his skull break like a poor artist’s cheap pottery.

“Thanks babe,” said Nega-Eric.

“I would do anything, for sex.” said her boyfriend.

Nega-Eric was zipping up her dress as she walked onto the dance floor. She passed one of the basketball players from the other team. She was in a cage dancing naked for several strangers, trying her best not to stretch the gaping, pussy slash marks on her back. It was difficult, as she arched her back to avoid the spikes on the cage bars.

“What a day,” Nega-Eric sighed as she met up with her friend from the morning, “I got knocked over, missed my club meeting, and had to dodge some homeless guy on my date.”

“At least now we’ll be able to have some fun,” said the friend.

The windows shattered and a platoon of guerrillas stormed in.

“Death to the fascists!” they screamed. The guards all drew and the room filled with the sound of gunfire. “You take all we have and live in luxury while we die for your greed!” said a megaphone somewhere. One guard grabbed Nega-Eric’s arm and escorted her to a secret exit. Her friend was hit in the throat by a 7.62. She crumpled to the ground, a gurgling sound coming from the spraying hole in her neck. In seconds, she was dead.

At the evacuation point, three guards were waiting for Nega-Eric. The one with a swastika badge addressed the other two. “You two, protect the princess! Make sure she’s safe!”

“Are you insane? There are terrorists all over the place! We should run!”

“You will stand and do your duty, soldier.”

“I’m no goddamn volunteer! I don’t want to die for this!” The captain pumped a 12 gauge shotgun shell into the guard’s chest. The force of the shot blew the guard’s chest cavity out. It was dark but the bits of flesh caught some mysterious light, and there was a mist of red. The guard slumped over, his organs spilling out onto the ground.

The captain turned to the remaining guard. “Do you have the balls to do your job?” he asked. The poor guard looked down the steaming barrel of the shotgun.

“Come with me,” he said, taking Nega-Eric’s hand. She was taken to a lightless bunker. In the distance, gunshots echoed but told no story. The guard closed the heavy steel door behind her. Nega-Eric peeled off her blood stained dress and went to bed.

-

The day started off with the state’s hottest radio station on the radio. This time, it was the news: “... over 300 terrorists were killed across the country. The search goes on, but we have defended the honor and lives of our leaders. Revenge will be swift and deadly to all those who oppose us, and those who aid them.” One of the guards knocked on the door.

“Nega-Eric? It’s safe. We’re going to bring you home now.”

“Thank God nothing bad happened to me. I’m so glad I can continue to live my life this way. I hope it never changes ever.” Nega-Eric was well rested, full of energy, and ready for the Tuesday.




Written Feb, 2016 at the North Shore Young Writers' Conference. No one applauded.
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