Inauguration Day

Brian Price wandered the streets of Washington, D.C., hoping to record the special events of that given moment. It was Friday, January 20, 2017, the day of President Trump’s inauguration, and he was an investigative journalist hoping to record the event that day. Breitbart News, and alternative news source, wanted him to gather footage of the event, but unfortunately, he had overslept, completely late for the event. Now, trying to seek transportation, it seemed he couldn’t find any, and now he had to walk.

What am I going to tell the news channel about this? he wondered. They’re going to terminate me before I get a chance to explain myself! Damn it! I’m such a schmuck! If only I’d been more responsible… His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when a brick whirred past his head, barely missing his skull as it collided with a display window only two yards away.

Brian flinched. What was going on, he wondered? What just flew past his head? A brick? He then looked at the shattered window of the Starbucks cafe he had been walking past. Holy shit! he thought. That nearly hit my face! What the heck is going on? He then saw a malatov cocktail land about three yards in front of him, immediately incinerating everything it touched upon impact. Brian instinctively jumped back from the cocktail, but he began to look around to assess the situation.

A mob of people in black outfits carrying red-and-black flags were marching the streets, throwing bricks and batteries, vandalizing property, committing arson, and harming innocent bystanders ambling the streets, minding their own business. Seeing them, Brian felt an instinctive need to run. These people were antifa, an anarcho-communist group who vandalized things and assaulted anyone they deemed “fascist” simply because they were to the right of Josef Stalin and Mao Zedong on the political spectrum. These people were terrorists out for blood, so Brian had to get out of there quickly, but a rock, unfortunately, made impact with his stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he collapsed on the sidewalk, writhing in pain.

Several antifa members surrounded him as he tried to get up and began to beat him with their arms and legs, punching him and kicking him wherever it hurt. Brian felt the battery, pain increasing with every blow. A kick to his face, a punch to his stomach, a knife blade to his back – excruciating pain unlike anything he’d ever felt before. They continued to assault him as he screamed in pain, feeling nothing but hatred for a stranger they never met.

Suddenly, a siren went off, and the antifa members stopped beating him. They fell to the ground with something in their eyes. Some ran while others tried desperately to get something out of their eye sockets. Brian, writhing in pain, looked up to see what was happening. Several police officers with mace and batons were marching toward the rioters while the latter scampered away into safety. Brian tried to get up, but some mace was sprayed in his face as he felt the burning sensation in his eyes. He felt several blows to his head and then went under, fading to black. It wasn’t long before an emergency responder saw him and took him to the hospital to trump the extreme left-wing abhorrence.