Throw away the key

Day 17: Keyhole
No Novel November 2019

He’ll be furious when he finds out. But the cocktail of drugs she mixed into his coffee that morning will ensure that won’t be until she’s long gone.

She dangles her toes into the freezing lake water, relishing the change from the stifling house. The floating dock sways gently beneath her. The motion is smooth and calming—so unlike the way she’s been handled these past three years. She feels as if she could fall asleep here. Not that she will. It’s going to be a long time before she’s safe enough to rest anywhere.

The key beeps again, a warning that it’s too far from its biometrically-bonded owner. From him. She pulls the thing out of her pocket, admiring its unique cross-section, watching the blue lights flicker. Such a small thing. So fragile. So cruel.

Without allowing herself a chance to change her mind, she launches the key in a high arc that ends neatly in the center of the lake.

As it sinks, the hole in her chest starts to burn. The device inside is overheating, melting the microfilaments and nanochips that bind her to him. Perfect fingernails snap on the wooden dock as she silently endures the pain. A distant part of her wonders why they’d program that in; a different part has no such questions.

And then it’s over. It’s done.

She breathes in shakily as a smile twitches on her lips. Never again can anyone else have control over her heart—she’s free.

This story is part of No Novel November, a daily microfiction challenge. If you'd like to know more and/or join in, click here.