The Hope for American Democracy

As she opened her eyes, the brisk air filled her tired lungs. She wiped the eye crusties off and remembered that she hadn’t removed her mascara and bright crimson lipstick last night. She looked across the room and her roommate, Evellynne was passed out on the emerald velvet (faux velvet) couch with her stick-straight purple hair hanging in her face.

“Erica, how are you still alive?” Evellynne asked groggily, while wiping the hair out of her mouth and grabbing her phone. “Dang it! I forgot to plug it in.” After looking at her battery life, Erica realized she forgot to do the same, so she dragged herself off the couch and slumped to her bedroom to plug her phone in and order some coffee from Culture Espresso, her favorite coffee shop nearby. It was 9:30 in the morning, and she needed a boost.

“Eve, do you want some coffee? I’m just gonna get myself a drip from Culture,” Erica called over to the next room. After hearing the reply for “Same!”, she put in a DoorDash order for two large drip coffees. “$15 for two coffees? These delivery fees are getting a bit presumptuous,” she muttered to herself sarcastically. This was life in New York. Erica looked down at the sweatshirt she’d been donning for the past two days. “I AmErica” it said in bold black Sans Serif. She chuckled to herself, it was funny back in college to make a pun out of her full name: America Kamani Smith. It was time to change and it was a cold day. November 4, 2020., so Erica walked to her messy closet and grabbed her light gray turtleneck sweater, black skinny jeans, pizza socks, and her white sneakers. She wiped the remaining makeup off her face with the last makeup wipe in the package and adjusted her gold septum ring to the center. She heard a knock at the door and jumped up to retrieve the precious caffeine that was but a door away.

The door creaked open and the delivery guy handed Erica the drink holder with the coffee and said “Crazy night last night, right?” Erica knew he was referring to the Presidential Election, but she and Eve drank a large bottle of Moscato and were out cold by 7:53pm the night before, so she didn’t know the results. “Yep, thanks!” she answered as she shut the door. Almost as soon as the door clicked shut, the power went out. Again. For the second time this week. She handed the coffee to Eve, then went to her room. Ever since quarantine started, Erica had been transitioning her hair to be natural. Her beautiful 4a curls had been oppressed from years of relaxers and straighteners, so she felt that this was a perfect opportunity to go natural. As she sprayed some water and coconut scented detangler over her curls and added some gel to refresh, she contemplated the independent opinion article she wrote that the New York Post published last Friday. It went shockingly viral over the days leading up to the Election, and Erica knew why. She presented the idea that neither of the two main presidential candidates in 2020 were worthy of the American peoples’ vote, and that neither should assume the role of power. She believed that local state and city governments were sufficient and that America didn’t really need to have such an overbearing president. She knew her father would be proud.

After she was done with her hair and cleaning her closet a bit, Erica decided to take a walk to Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog stand. An old friend from high school owned it, and she thought she’d catch up with him and get a hot dog for lunch. As she made it outside of her apartment building, she noticed the street was fairly empty and there was almost no-one on the sidewalks. As she neared the stand, she waved to her friend and called out,

“Hey Matt! I’ll have the usual, please!” Her order consisted of a single hot dog with mustard on the top.

“You got it!” Matt replied. “What did you think of the election results last night?”

“My roommate and I actually passed out drunk before we heard the results and our power and internet was out this morning,” Erica said with a laugh. Matt looked at her with a bit of surprise.

“America just decided to not have a president anymore.”

In disbelief, Erica asked “Are you serious? That can’t be possible!”

“It’s true. The house and senate voted that state and local governments would just take over, I guess. I’m not too sure how that willl work out, but I guess we’ll see.”

Erica thanked Matt for the hotdog after paying and walked away speechless. Maybe her article made a difference. Maybe the people were fed up with being lied to and manipulated. Maybe… Maybe… Maybe. She headed off towards Newsstand to buy a paper to see if Matt was right. As she arrived to the crowded shop, she saw the shocking headline:

“Congress Unanimously Votes to Abolish the Executive Branch Amid Turbulent Election.”

Erica paid for her paper and rushed out the door. She felt nervous when there were too many people in one place, but most especially if some of them weren’t wearing masks. She looked to her left and saw a Covergirl advertisement, and to her right, “Irish Pub.” “I’ll bet the pub is pretty busy this morning,” she concluded. She walked to Bryant Park and sat by the statue of William Cullen Bryant to read her paper in peace.

It was just like Matt mentioned. Congress decided to have state governors and local city officials take control of their own areas and abolish the presidency. President Trump tweeted that it was fake news and that he had actually won the election… that is, up until the FBI walked into his room at the White House and took him to prison for tax fraud, pedophilia, and racist hate crimes. His secret service was incapacitated due to their positive Coronavirus tests and taking the two-week quarantine period seriously.

Erica grinned as she pulled her coat closer around her neck. It was fuzzy, far too big for her small frame, and smelled like mothballs and Marlboros. It was her father’s. Justice Anton Smith was murdered outside of Trump Tower by a rogue NYPD officer on a cold winter day in 1993; six shots in the back. Erica didn’t remember much about her father, but she remembered that he always encouraged her to never back down from what she believed in, even if evil people did their best to stop her. She took a deep breath of the frigid air and smiled. Daddy would have been so proud.

As she walked back to her apartment, Erica couldn’t help but think of all of the possibilities of sensational articles she could write. This was her livelihood after all! She adjusted her blue floral face mask and was even more excited about the hope for American Democracy.