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The world is a very dangerous place, dear...

A Short Story by Shaun A. Saunders

Image by David Dees | deesillustration.com

LISA HAD just returned home when her mother trapped her in one of those ‘dear, why don’t we sit down and chat’ spiels. Today, the topic was the importance of the ‘identity discs’ mandated by Lisa's high school. The discs not only contained a literal wealth of information about the wearer, but also allowed the school to keep track of students’ whereabouts.
    

Lisa decided to be honest. “Mum, I don’t feel good about wearing an identity disc. I feel like a cow sent for auction, where they have the seller’s initials and stuff painted on their hides.”
    

Lisa’s mother frowned. “What an imagination. This is for your own good. The world is a very dangerous place, dear.”
    

“But it's unsafe. Anyone with the right gear could download the information on it, and I wouldn’t even know!”
    

Condescendingly, “Oh dear, you do exaggerate.”
     

Lisa shook her head. “Why do they need my medical history?”
    

"If you were to have an accident, the authorities would know straight away what medications you take, or medical problems you might have. It’s for your own good. People get hurt all the time. You see it on TV every night.” Her mother shivered. “Anything could happen to you out there.”
    

“Yeah, if I watched the same shows as you do, like NCIS, CSI, Law and Order, and all the spin-offs, I might feel that way. But I don’t. Unlike you, I’m not too scared to walk outside, and —”
    

Stiffly, “Those shows you spoke of are quality dramas, made by people who know the world a little better than you do, dear.”
    

Lisa decided not to pursue that argument any further. “Mum, if there was anything these ‘authorities’ needed to know, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have that information about the medication I’m not on available to whoever it is would be treating me for this hypothetical accident that might never happen. But there are already little capsules you can carry around your neck with that info typed on a message inside.”
    

Archly, “So what’s the difference, then?”
    

Lisa rolled her eyes. "What’s the point of me wearing that damn so-called identity disc when all someone has to do is rip it off my neck?
    

Her mother beamed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about! Your school agrees with you, and to maintain safety, they’re now offering to microchip all students! For free!”
    

Lisa's mouth hung agape. “You mean like someone’s pet? No fuckin way!”
    

Calmly, her mother replied, “I thought you might think so.” She looked over Lisa’s shoulder and called, “I think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”
    

Three burly nurses from the school clinic were as gentle as possible, but Lisa did resist.
    

Her mother explained. “Nurses are only human, dear, and can hardly be faulted for hitting back.”
    

Hours later, with two broken fingers from a misapplied wristlock, and a bruised face, Lisa whispered to her mother from between swollen lips, “You’re right, mum. The world is a very dangerous place.”

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