Viridescence

• Charlotte Landherr, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2021

“Your execution is scheduled for tomorrow. Good day.” The security guard thrusts me into my jail cell and the door slams with a resounding thud.
I plonk down onto the lumpy, xanthous bed and proceed to unshackle my handcuffs with a hairpin. You learn a few things when you’ve escaped jail forty-nine times.
What did I do this time? Nothing too serious. Just a bit of grievous bodily harm. I have to give them some incentive to catch me.
I recline on the mattress and peer around the room. They’ve outdone themselves this time. No signature jail cell bars, only convict-resistant cobblestone walls. There’s no handle on the door, so my hairpin manoeuvre won’t work. I do appreciate a challenge.
Along with the bed I’m lying on, the room is furnished with a stainless-steel toilet and a table etched with the initials of previous felons. One singular bulb above me omits a purple light. The ceiling is scattered with minute green glowing things, perhaps stickers. They remind me of stars. Viridescent stars. A wave of shivers chills my body.
It’s been a long day of committing crimes and being captured. I’ll work out how to escape tomorrow. Now, I’ll let sleep consume me.
I wake up to a perplexing smell. It reminds me of the blood dripping from my victims’ faces.
Time to devise an escape plan.
I scan every square centimetre of the room, looking for a weak spot in the wall or a loose floorboard. No such luck. Looks like they’ve made this room me-proof, but I’ll find a way.
I lift up the bed, but there’s no convenient secret tunnel. I throw the bed down, endeavouring -but failing- to damage the cobblestone floor. I’m not worried. When they come and take me away for my execution, I’ll decamp. Now, I just have to wait.
I sprawl out on the tarnished bed, basking in the radiance of the room. The little green things no longer seem like scattered stars, but a luminescent ocean. A shudder steals my body once more. Soon I will be out of here. I stare at the ceiling, hypnotised by the eerie effulgent glow. I’ve been lying here for hours. Surely they’ll be coming to execute me soon. The day is almost over.
Maybe they aren’t coming. Maybe I don’t have to die after all. I stare at the pretty green lights on my bed. They contrast with the red rash on my skin. Rash? When did that get there? The smell of blood is tearing at my nostrils. I can barely breathe. What is happening to me? Can they just come and kill me already?
I lean over the side of the bed and vomit. The pretty little lights are on my body now. And through hazy eyes and a hazier brain, it dawns on me.
They aren’t lights, they’re glowing bacteria.
It looks like my execution was planned for today, after all.