The donor line was getting longer and longer as I looked from a distance. I was going to be here all day, and any thought of seeing Paul in the evening was out the window. I hated the new laws. I felt they invaded my space, my life. You could tell the ones who had given more than they should. They were pale, slow walking, quiet. Their play was to max out so they wouldn’t have to come every two weeks. Usually it never worked. The Vampire Control System would find you and bring you anyway.
It wasn’t worth your health to give daily.
Then again, that was when we gave voluntarily. Everyone, not just the O Negs. Seven percent of the population has O negative Blood. Those that have it are called, “Universals”. This means that our red Blood cells can be transfused to patients with all types of Blood. At first it was just a name that was used for cool rock bands and tattoos. Now we’re the ones saving what’s left of humanity from being labeled as food. “
— In R. C. Allen’s story, “O Negative”, the lines between political correctness, tolerance, and war are slowly being blurred. Marissa will soon break the lines of tolerance, political correctness, and peace to regain the one thing that’s rare in her life: Independence.