2017 Frederick Douglass Quarter Errors

At my eighteenth birthday celebration, my cousin gave me a half-scratched lottery ticket as a coming-of-age gift. When he realized I'd won twenty dollars, he suddenly demanded to buy the ticket from me for two hundred thousand. Something about it felt wrong, and I refused. Then he snapped. Like a man gone mad, he cursed me, wishing me dead, and in front of all the guests, shoved me off the balcony. Dozens of people watched, including my own parents, silently condoning him—joining in, shouting that I deserved to die. And then I opened my eyes… and I was back half an hour earlier. My cousin sneered, tossing the lottery ticket toward me, speaking the same familiar words.

“Who the hell changed the screw tolerance by 0.007 mm?” “I did. Is there a problem?” Kimmy Zabel, our department’s “good-luck charm” and full-time slacktivist, did not even look up from her compact mirror, where she was carefully applying lip gloss. “It just didn’t look right, so I tweaked it. Do you really have to yell at me?” The production line had been running on the wrong spec for twenty-four hours. I hit the emergency stop. Keeping my voice steady took some effort. “These parts no longer meet export standards. If we miss tomorrow’s shipment, even a month of overtime wouldn’t cover the penalties.” “It’s one tiny number. You’re being so dramatic!” Kimmy snapped her makeup case shut. “Anyway, it’s New Year’s Eve. I’ve got a date. I’m not staying here to suffer with you people.” Before she even reached the door, I gestured to the staff to pull the shutters down. “For precision components like these, one number translates into a million-dollar loss. You can take these defective units and explain them to the regulators.”

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

Not a Slave It is a time where a woman is used for attaining something precious which would fulfill the dream of becoming a king of the kingdom they wish for without a war. It is a time where a Son is born to embrace the duty as a King after his Father in the royal family irrespective of the ability he has. It is a time where a small land of people is looked down when they are not part of the council, which has all the elders with wisdom as members and the Kings of all kingdoms have to follow the rules laid by them regarding their ruling. And then it is also a time where a girl child is born to change all the past practicing traditions paving the way for a new one, but had to go through the danger of becoming a slave with no one to protect her. But she will never let anyone make her a Slave as she is not a Slave. I am a Queen I am a Queen who had done nothing but what everyone asked me to do. I fulfilled everyone’s wishes without giving those any second thought. I am a Queen who got blamed for the things about which I don’t even have a minimal idea. I am blamed because there is nothing else they can do other than that. I am a Queen who wishes at present to go back being a princess as my life is going to be taken away by the person who is none other than my Father in a few seconds just because I am a Queen. I closed my eyes hoping that this ends once and for all…

I train so hard that even in my sleep, I recite medical formulas. At long last, victory is mine! I am the champion of the Healers' Competition. But just as they place the trophy in my hands, my twin sister, Sasha Flanders, strides onto the stage and snatches it away. With brazen conviction, she declares, "I'm the true champion! My sister swapped the competitor's information to steal this honor from me!" The audience gasps in an uproar. Before my stunned eyes, the judges revoke my title on the spot. I don't yet realize that this competition is no ordinary contest—it is the Alpha King Leonard Muller's secret trial, one that is meant to select his future Luna Queen. Rumor paints him as monstrous—hideous of face, bloodthirsty in nature, and treats women as nothing more than breeding machines. It is said this is why he has never taken a mate. His summons arrived this very night, commanding Sasha to attend the coronation ceremony as Luna Queen. My Beta fiance, Timothy Newsom, turns ashen with rage. The next day, Sasha comes to flaunt herself before me, her neck freshly marked, carrying Timothy's scent. "Oh, my poor sister. Your precious fiance marked me. What will you do now? You're turning 25 in three days. By our pack's law, if no one claims you, you'll be thrown to the impotent, deranged, and broken wolves no one else will have. You'll be worse than trash." Her shrill laughter cracks in my ears, squeezing the breath from my chest. But I will not let that break me. I went straight to my parents. "If Sasha dares not to be Luna Queen… then let me take her place."

My husband used to love me so much. Back then, he proposed 99 times just to marry me. It wasn't until the 100th proposal that I was finally moved by his persistence and became the envied Mrs. Frederick Morrison of Harbor City. On our wedding day, I gave him 99 reconciliation vouchers. We agreed that as long as these vouchers weren't used up, I would stay by his side forever. … It's been five years since then. Every time Frederick goes out to see another woman, he uses up one reconciliation voucher. Gradually, he suddenly notices that I've changed. I no longer cry or beg him to stay. Only when he loses his mind over his innocent secretary again do I quietly ask him, "Frederick, if you don't come back tonight, can I use a reconciliation voucher?" He pauses mid-step, then immediately turns. "Of course." He thinks he still has many reconciliation vouchers. He doesn't realize this is his last one.