[WP] Once you retire, and have served your purpose to society, you are expected to take a pill that kills you. Those that don't are shunned by society. You retired yesterday and your family are waiting downstairs, your suicide party has been planned, but you don't want to go...

I stared at my reflection in the bedroom mirror. My hands trembled as I lifted them to my face, running my fingertips along the ridges and canyons of my aging face, feeling the bareness of my scalp. I peered into my eyes, the shimmery blue tint of glaucoma glinted in the harsh light of the fluorescent lamp above the mirror.
"Everything alright?" a voice yelled from downstairs. It was my daughter. She'd made the loveliest cake for today; rich chocolate sponge studded with fresh strawberries from the allotment.
"Yes, yes" I called back. "Give us a minute."
I walked over the the door, my legs wobbling slightly. I knew I was weak. I understood it wasn't safe for me to work the machines anymore, to carry the boxes. But was this really it? My legs may work slow but that didn't mean there are not still places to go. My eyesight my be hindered but that didn't mean there are no more sights to see, no more beauty to behold. My hand rested on the cold brass of the doorknob. I knew these next few minutes would be the last I would see of my family, I had to take in every last smile, feel every hug, and remember every word they would speak about how I had a good life, and how much I mean to them. My head fell against the door, tears starting to well up. This can't be it, I thought.
"Sir, are you okay?" I heard from the other side of the door. A man's voice of whom I didn't recognize. I sighed. It must be the adjudicator, who verifies that the pill that kills me is taken. How many people has he watched take their own life? I wondered. My sadness instantly turned to anger. Fuck 'em! What gives them the right to choose when one dies?
"Just give me two more minutes" I responded through gritted teeth.

The waves lapped against the side of the boat. A man stepped down from the boat the join me on the jetty. We both stared at the vessel for a while.
"You sure about this?" asked the man.
"Oh I'm sure." I replied. I put my hand against the hull, sliding it across the freshly paint of the boat's name: Invictus.
"You're definitely okay with this? I mean you look like you should have retired years ago. I mean, no offence."
I smiled.
"I'll be quite alright, don't you worry."
"There's a radio in the cabin, if you run into any trouble out there just calls out, it's in the right frequency already, so just-"
"Thanks, but that won't be neccesary." I cut him off.
"Well if you run into danger-"
"I have a way out."
The man stared at me quizically as I hoisted myself onto the ship. I untied the ropes before throwing them into the sea. The boat started to drift away from the jetty, leaving the man stood there watching.
"What's your way out?" he yelled over the noise of the engine starting up. I walked to the edge of the boat grinning, shaking the small orange bottle that used to contain my glaucoma medication. In it rattled one last pill.
"I am the master of my fate" I yelled back.

I am the captain of my soul.

/r/WritingPrompts Thread