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

ground. I try to warn Ava, but my voice won't work. She keeps

behind her.

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

She's gripping the armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches, throwing

Impact.

erupt. Pain

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

55000

And always, I'm helpless to

watch as she suffers.

my chains, but I can't escape. I can't wake up.

mercifully, I do wake

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

but I force myself to swallow.

torment.

me with a curious intensity. "How often has the Master fed from

surprised by the question. "Just once," I rasp out, wincing at the pain in

her head. "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

flashes across her face as she mutters, "He must favor y greatly, for a single taste to affect

know how to respond to that. The idea that this monster might favor

]]

lase mast but no words coming

weten, my mind dealle

Mariel's

want

ere will die

mure endle

doesn't wees to care

agan her hate prodding at

that

what she's doing. Her fingers press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers down at my

voice rough from disuse

at me with a strange intensity. "Only once," she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But the withdrawal... it's so

agonizing pain, and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed,

return.

hard, trying to

her arms and resting her check on them as she stares at me. There's something wistful in her expression, a

Fevers

For