Watery Cradle: Science Fiction

The warm water lapped around her ankles like salty afterbirth spilled from the world's womb. She inhaled. One chance to do this right. If she was wrong about her guess, she was dead. She looked over her shoulder at the lights hastily bobbing down the hill after her. If she hesitated, she would never get a chance to know. They would take her back, for her own safety, of course. She would never be allowed near the shore again. She had had to be so very careful, too, to get even these brief minutes alone. The security cameras were everywhere. She had had to fool them. Any interest in the sea would have made them wonder what she was thinking. That was the point of her captivity, after all...discovering what she was thinking. They would never dare to threaten her, but there were other ways. Ways that would not provoke the strange new abilities she had gained.


Inspiration: "Track 12"
Story Potential: High.
Finished Length: Short story works.
Notes: She isn't just trying to escape. There's more to it than that. The lights are searchers, not machinery. She isn't alien, they aren't alien, and this isn't a fantasy world. There is something wrong with the sea...or right, but certainly unexpected. And it will make her complete. Or something.