Challenge #220 - Somethin' Bad
Shirley, Simon. Death Row. 300 words.
A/N: If you happen to see this elsewhere on the internet, well, ozsaur needed it. Somehow we will soldier on. ;)
When Shirley casts her net, she never knows what the tide will bring her.
*
It's disappointing that there aren't many max-sec prisons on the Atlantic. Think how much calmer everyone would be, listening to the rush and crash of waves against the rocky beach. Losing time and thoughts to the hypnotic ebb and flow encircling them. Harder to escape in the sense of the body, but so freeing for the mind.
Beachfront property's at a premium, she guesses. Still, shouldn't the positives win out?
Shirley's always been a daughter of the sea, a mermaid set adrift and, unable to become used to life on land, on legs, she is in a constant, tiresome push towards home.
It had been silly to presume she could get back in a car. A last ditch effort. She'd sat in the driver's side seat for a minute, the strap of the seatbelt keeping her in place. She'd let her breath bubble out.
She'd even brought an offering.
Afterwards, rising up from the water had felt like a triumph, a reawakening of her power. She had been deeply satisfied that she made the right decision. She remembered standing still as a statue while rivulets of water ran down her body. Her hair, dripping. Her fingers felt clumsy and useless. The weight of her wet clothes pulled at her shoulders.
The yearning inside had not desisted. The sound that brought people running, finally, was her shriek, and her wail.
Then Shirley knew she was no mermaid, but a siren.
*
Shirley keeps her voice gentle so she can pinpoint when betrayal replaces the eagerness on Simon's face. She widens her eyes, coy, for a split second. The look that he gives her! She drinks up the anger and pain.
What a particularly thoughtful gift, for her birthday.