It was dark at first, he felt as though he was drowning before his eyes flew wide open and the grey sky opened before him. He bolted up, glanced at his chest, and realized there was nothing there, no blood, no wound, just a thin coat of Kevlar. He laughed. “I did it.” He muttered slowly at first and then shouted, “I did it!”
The drug had worked. He’d successfully convinced them they killed him. “Woo Hoo!” He jumped up and wiped his face. It didn’t matter he had no clue where he was, he’s free. He could finally move on.
Each week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple hosts Friday Fictioneers where we’re challenged to write a piece of flash fiction in 100 words, more or less, based on the picture above.