‘Nightshade’ by Madison B
Clara opened her eyes to inky darkness and a quiet humming sound resonating in her ears. At least, she thought she had opened her eyes- the darkness around her was no different to the darkness of that when she had her eyes closed. The space was hot and clammy and hard to breathe in as well as an overwhelming smell of earth flooding Claras senses. She tried to sit up by pressing her hands firmly against the varnished, smooth surface and heaving her aching body up- only to bang her head firmly against a varnished, smooth roof that lay around thirty centimeters above where she had lay. Clara yelped, and as soon as the raspy, spluttering sound that her voice made dispersed into the surroundings, it all flooded back to her. How long had she been in there? How long would she have left? Surely, at this rate, no more than a couple of minutes- her chest was heavy and the limited oxygen trapped before they shut the lid would most definitely be gone by now. A couple of minutes was something she couldn’t play around with. If she wasn’t out by then, then it would be a slow painful death for sure. A slow painful death she could have avoided but now loomed down over her like a grey raincloud, ready to burst. Clara used her frail arms to try and heave the glossy lid upwards. Who was she kidding? Even if she lifted the lid up, she would consequently be crushed under the many pounds of earth when it descended upon her. There was no use. She was trapped, buried, under the very earth she had walked upon yesterday. Mistaken for dead. All she could do was wait- wait for the end. Clara closed her eyes and the hymns of the funeral service above her lulled her into the deepest sleep.
***
On the 4th of July, Rachel was driving home from a school conference with Stephanie Nightshade. The journey home was long and soon enough darkness fell and the streetlamps glowed. That was when Rachel saw a badger run across the road and she thumped her foot down on the breaks. The impact caused the car to crash into the river off the side of the road. Rachel jumped out, struggling and gasping- panting in the stream. The car went under and then Stephanie didn’t surface. It was only on the 7th of July that the news came to Stephanie’s family. Clara Nightshade was devastated- so were her parents. Clara went out into the garden and sat there for a while, crying her eyes out until she realised something whilst sat among the bushes and shrubs, and then she didn’t feel quite so sad anymore.
***
Biddy was in her house when she heard a prolonged scream in her living room. She knew it was the living room because afterwards the antique, heirloom vase came crashing down almost immediately after. Too terrified to go down, she curled herself into a tight ball and waited for the morning to come.
It came soon enough and Biddy went downstairs via the kitchen and out the back door. She needed to go find Clara. The morning was unusually cold for a morning in July, but Biddy collected her school bag and walked to school as quickly as her legs could carry her. It wasn’t even eight-thirty when she arrived and the classrooms were bare. No-one came until after the bell had gone, that was the long-standing unspoken rule. But Clara never followed rules- even dumb unspoken ones. So, as expected, Clara was there sitting on a desk chewing bubblegum and writing in her notebook with her hair lasily plaited over her shoulder- the ends tinged gold with the sunlight.
“Clara,” Biddy said rushing over to her.
Clara glanced at the clock with slight surprise and then turned he gaze back. “You’re early- what’s wrong?”
That was intended to be a joke probably- some sarcasm Clara always threw out at early hours of the day- but the problem was that something was wrong. Biddy’s face was stone still.
“There was someone in my house last night,” Biddy said, “And that someone in my house killed my sister and left without a trace.” Biddy fumbled over her words slightly, “Oh Clara! I was too scared. I knew it was my Rachel’s scream- I knew that she is still probably lying dead on the carpet with her eyes rolled back into her head and blood pouring out of her and…” Biddy stopped to compose herself again. “I didn’t want to die Clara- you understand right?”
Clara shuffled around almost nervously and then brushed her hair out of her eyes. She knew what was wrong. She knew what had happened and she knew even more than Biddy did. Something much worse.
“Look I’ll talk to Natalie and we’ll figure something out I promise,” and Clara dropped off the table casually, popped her bubblegum, slung her bag over her shoulder and walked off.
Biddy looked over her shoulder but she could just see Clara’s black stained hair swaying behind her down the hallway. She sighed and sat down in her chair and waited for the bell to go.
It was nearly graduation, and the halls were lined with pink and purple ballons like there was a birthday going on. The summer heat was pounding through the glass windows and heating the corridor inside just as the school bell rang for the end of the day. And just like clockwork, every single classroom door swung open and lines of students filed out into the main hall and exited through the gates of the school out the back. Clara swiftly made her way around the crowds and within no time she was already walking down Green Street towards Natalie’s house. Clara had indeed convinced Natalie to go back to Biddy’s and try help search for something that may link to Rachel’s death.
She got to the row of terraced houses and knocked on 14a. And knocked again. And again. Raising her hand for the fourth knock, the door swung open and a chirpy Natalie opened the door.
“Sorry about that, I thought you were the authorities,” Natalie said shuffling around sheepishly.
“You were off school for a day. There wouldn’t be any authorities this early on,” Clara said rolling her eyes.
Clara and Natalie walked up to the third floor up the slanted staircase and climbed on up the ladder to the roof. The sky was beginning to tint pink at the very edges but the sun blazed brightly on their heads.
“So did you find out what you needed to?” Clara asked, picking up Natalie’s satchel and flipping it open, “The bag has gotten heavier I swear.”
“Maybe you’re just getting weaker,” Natalie joked and then coughed to regain herself, “I mean, I did find one thing.”
Natalie pulled out a small vial made of jade green glass and splattered with dark, black ink. As soon as the vial touched the air, the smells diffused and Clara could almost feel the gut-wrenching rancidity of it tickling her nose. But she knew the smell- or rather the description of it- from chemistry class. It was deadly nightshade for sure; the smell of unripened fruit was an unmissable scent. Clara gulped.
“It was in this cold box freezer type thing outside Biddy’s room. I know it was there because I accidentally tripped over it. It was so low to the ground I didn’t even see it until my feet found it,” Natalie explained, “Anyway, I thought you’d know more about it then I did.”
She handed Clara the vial and immediately her hands became cold, “What are you storing this in? How is it still somewhat liquid?”
Natalie shrugged, “My lunchbox.”
Clara smirked and said, “That’s some industrial lunchbox. The liquid is still freezing,” she brushed her hair to one side, “All right, I need to go talk to Biddy.”
“See you!” Natalie said, and then Clara disappeared down the ladder.
The police came over that evening and Biddy was at home by four o’clock. She opened the door, let the police in and then went upstairs. Clara phoned Biddy’s family line.
“Hello.”
“Biddy, it’s me Clara.”
“Oh, hi Clara,” Biddy said relaxing a little. “The police are here so could you maybe just phone back in an hour or so? I’m going to have to go speak to them soon and…”
“I was just phoning to say that Natalie found something, outside your house,” Clara conveniently left out the part of her convincing Natalie to climb in the open window that Biddy always left open, “I thought it might be useful for the investigation.”
“By all means bring it over, anything helps I guess,” Biddy sighed putting down the phone.
Clara arrived ten minutes later with a miniature roll of Sellotape and the vial. She knocked on the door and one of the investigators let her in.
“You’ve been sent here I assume,” he said not looking interested.
“Yep. Clara Nightshade,” she said.
Biddy was being interviewed so Clara figured she had some time. She scooted off in the direction of the yellow marker tape posted up carelessly around the living
room. The black stain was still on the floor and the police data book was next to it. Clara nimbly stepped over the ‘do not cross’ line and ducked under the table where the book of references was. The page was open on Rachel Chappel’s name, and sure enough, the page before it had ‘Bridget Chappel’ on it in big bold letters. Clara began to set to work with her tape pressing it over the imprint of Biddy’s fingerprint. She lifted the tape and there was a faint marking of a print on it. Good as any. Clara swiftly retreated out of the room and pressed the tape firmly against the vial. She could hear the police coming back to the office. She was running out of time The tape was hot and sticky in her hands as she pressed the print in different directions across the vial. Hopefully that would be enough- now it was time to go. Clara left the vial on the floor by the stairs and ran out the front door without making a sound.
Biddy wasn’t in school the next day. Or the day after that. Or for graduation either. Clara and Natalie had graduation dinner on a table of two and the prom was quite disappointing. Clara had a gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Whatever she ate would get lodged in her throat and whatever she drank she had to massage it down her throat like a lump of lead making its way down her oesophagus. It was only after the third song into the prom that the headteacher announced that Biddy had been found guilty for murder. Murder of her own dear sister Rachel on the 7th of July by poison. Poison of the deadliest kind- deadly nightshade. The dark black berry that killed when consumed. Clara fiddled with the dark splotch on her hair warily.
Clara stood stock still, trying not to give anything away. She’d been stupid- her mind had been a blur of anger and hatred that night. And so it had been last night too. What had Biddy done wrong? What had she done to deserve this? Poison was meant to be the only true killer, but it seemed that guilt had overtaken Clara. Guilt for other and most importantly the guilt knowing of Biddy’s fait of a lifetime alone. Her vision was clouded and the songs that blared out of speaker became white noise as her ears began ringing, her heart began thumping and she was sweating. Clara could feel the ground give way, and she tumbled to the floor.
And Natalie- the only good friend she had left, mistook her for dead. Not bothering to check her slow beating pulse. The funeral was scheduled for the day after the prom and everyone attended, assuming of course it was some medical attack that had killed her. And Clara heard the hymns they sung of course. She heard all the eulogy and part of the prayers before she suffocated in her own plan to save herself. In the dark.
And to think- the black that stained her hair had nearly washed off as well.