Tangled

Chapter 166

166

166

166 Lisa: Fevers and Dreams

LISA

How long has it been?

A few days?

Weeks?

The sun should keep me oriented, but a fever gets me the first night I'm there.

The girl, Marisol, comes by every so often. Always with food. A few times with bowls filled with some noxious liquid that has my nostrils trying to close, avoiding the smell coming from within. She's expressionless as she shoves it down my throat, and I'm too weak to fight her off.

It's medicine, I think.

I think that because I slowly get better after the third bowl,

In between moments of lucidity, I dream.

Normal life. Home. Mom and Dad.

Working with Ava at Beaniverse.

Flirting with that cute guy who accidentally wandered into our professor's Eng Lit class instead of some sort of philosophy class

two doors down.

Cozy, happy dreams, of a place far from here..

An escape from the reality that chains me.

17:37

At some point the dreams turn from happy comfort to something uneasy and dark.

Sunshine warms my face as Ava and I relax at our favorite cafe,

sipping lattes and chatting. For a moment, the world feels right again, like I'm back where I belong

But then the shadows come

to

behind her.

for Ava, engulfing her, dragging her away as she kicks and struggles.

hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches, throwing us forward. Oxygen Ava's screaming. I'm screaming. The world outside the windows is a blur of sky and ground, rushing

Impact.

screeches and rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears. Ava's

drowning

55000

always, I'm helpless to save

watch as she suffers.

up. The horrors play out

I do wake

drenched in sweat. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me.

tongue, but I force myself

torment.

the Master fed from you?" she asks, her voice almost

question. "Just once," I rasp out, wincing at the

this strong, not for a single feeding." There's something in her tone, an undercurrent of emotion

you

as she mutters, "He must favor y

might

]]

lase mast but no words

weten, my mind dealle

with Mariel's

all I want is to curl

ere will die

mure endle

doesn't wees to care about

me agan her hate prodding at my skin with

detach that make me

my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers down at my shoulder that I realize what she's

out, my voice rough from disuse

"Only once," she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But the withdrawal... it's so strong. He must have

and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed,

return.

to

and resting her check on them as she stares at me. There's something wistful in her expression, a longing that I can't quite

Lisa Fevers and

For

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