A Bit O' Nano

The girl could hardly hear her sobs over the rush of the tide. The tears streamed down her face without pause. She dashed the tears to the rattling of the chain that weighed her down. Aside from most of her own body, all she could reach was the pen and book in her lap. There, she had begun to write. The light was fading; she had to hurry. She jotted down another line. The cave smelled dim and dank. That stink would be in her nostrils for a long time. Perhaps forever? Who could tell? Perhaps her husband would come to save her, with a key in hand and revenge in his eyes. He had to save her; it was his entire fault that she was here.

‘Pass a message on to Charles in the market place,’ he had said, as they lay together in bed. ‘Do this favour for me, and you shall have anything you desire.’

‘Anything?’ she had asked slyly. She had passed on the message, of course. Soon, it was one every day. And then, he told her why. How could she not help fight for his noble cause when the passion in his eyes burned more brightly than anything she had ever seen? It was an honour to assist him in his work. There she was, silently and secretly fighting along side her beloved husband.

And then the men had come, with grasping hands and steel. They did not listen to hear pleas of innocence. At first she thought that they were the police, come to take her away. She came to realise that they were not, simply men opposed to the cause that she had been fighting all of these years. Of course, they existed. Her husband had told her about them one night in bed. He had warned her like someone warns a child not to go swimming after they had eaten. He hadn’t fully understood the dangers himself. Nobody had.

The light finally dropped from the cave. The girl carefully closed the book and placed it within her reach. The pen was nearly out of ink. She was hungry, so hungry. The last time she had eaten seemed like a month ago.

‘Mary,’ her husband had said. ‘You know you help me out of love. Well, I work out of love, too.’

If he loved her so much, where was he now? Gone, fled. Missing, officially. Did he even remember his stupid little wife?

Mary clenched her teeth against the terrible pain in her stomach. She had written the entire tale down. Perhaps she would live to re-read it. Inside, she knew that she had lost. She was going to die alone here, in this cave. Would anyone ever find her? Would her bones rot here for an age? She was going to die, oh yes. Nothing could prevent it now.

She was thirsty, so thirsty. And there it was, the little vial that one of her captors had left her. He had placed it on a rock next to her knee. She could reach it if she chose. The man had looked at her with something like pity in his eyes. He had been the last the leave the cave; the others hadn’t seen a thing.

The hours dragged away. Mary was so hungry that she would have eaten rotten meat, or moldy bread, anything to stave off the horrible pain in her stomach.

At dawn, she made a decision.

Mary plucked the small vial from its shelf and broke the seal around the cap. She barely had the strength to lift her arms. The liquid within was thick and dark, burning her tongue. For but a moment, her thirst was eased. And then, the pain began. She clutched at her chest as the pulmonary edema began. Her eyes bulged; her tongue was growing thicker by the second. Her entire body stiffened, and she blacked out. Her body continued to twist in its chains as she thrashed in time to the poison’s march through her bloodstream.