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

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

behind her.

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

her hand to comfort her, but the

Impact.

and rends. Flames erupt. Pain sears.

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

55000

unseen monsters. And always, I'm helpless to save

watch as she suffers.

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

I do

throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me.

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

torment.

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

surprised by the question. "Just once," I

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

you

she mutters, "He must favor y greatly, for

might favor me fills me with nothing but

]]

lase mast but no

weten, my mind dealle

Mariel's odd

I want is

ere will die

mure endle

she doesn't wees to care about my discomfort.

need to me agan her hate prodding at my skin

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 liŋoking

rough from disuse and screaming. "He only bit

she repeats, as if tasting the words. "But

memory of his fangs sinking, the agonizing pain, and the sickening rush of pleasure that followed, makes bile rise in my throat, the medicine threatening

return.

swallow hard, trying to push the

on her heels, 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

Fevers and

For