Tangled

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

edges of my vision, dark tendrils snaking across the ground. I try to warn Ava, but my

behind her.

for Ava, engulfing her, dragging her away as she kicks and struggles. I lunge for her, but my feet are

armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her,

Impact.

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

coming, each more horrific than the last. Ava, drowning in a sea of blood. Ava, burning alive. Ava, torn

55000

I'm helpless to save her,

watch as she suffers.

thrash against my chains, but I can't escape. I can't wake up. The horrors

mercifully, I do

in my cell, shivering and drenched in sweat. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me. holding a bowl of that foul-smelling liquid to my

I force myself to swallow.

torment.

"How often has the Master fed from

"Just once," I rasp

"The withdrawal shouldn't be this strong, not for a single feeding." There's something in her tone, an undercurrent of emotion I can't quite place.

you

"He must favor y greatly, for a single taste to affect

don't know how to respond to that. The idea that this monster might favor me fills me with nothing but a sickening twist of

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room, tie lase mast but no words

weten, my mind dealle

Mariel's odd behavior.

aut all I want is

ere will die

mure endle

she doesn't wees to care about

need to me agan her hate prodding at my skin with

detach that make me

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

my voice rough from disuse and

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

memory of his fangs sinking, the agonizing pain, and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed, makes

return.

to push the sensation

crossing her arms 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 comprehend. "When did you know? she asks softly, her eyes never leaving mine. "When did you realize

Fevers

For