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 talking, oblivious, until the shadows

behind her.

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

beside me. She's gripping the armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches, throwing us forward. Oxygen Ava's screaming. I'm screaming. The world

Impact.

and rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears. Ava's hand. slips from

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

55000

And always, I'm helpless to save her, forced

watch as she suffers.

chains, but I can't escape. I can't wake up. The horrors play out again and again,

mercifully, I

sweat. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me. holding a bowl of that

gag as the bitter liquid hits my tongue, but I force myself to swallow. Anything

torment.

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

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

She shakes 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

as she mutters, "He must favor y greatly, for a single taste to

that this monster might favor me fills

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lase mast but no words

weten, my mind dealle

with Mariel's odd

I want is to curl up

ere will die

mure endle

to

to me agan her hate prodding at my skin

detach that make me

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

don't have any I rasp out, my voice rough from disuse and screaming. "He only bit me

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

to respond to that. The memory of his fangs sinking, the agonizing pain, and the sickening rush of pleasure that

return.

to push the sensation

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 you were in love with the

Fevers and

For