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

at the edges of my vision, dark tendrils snaking across the ground. I try to warn Ava, but my voice won't work. She keeps talking, oblivious, until

behind her.

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

Ava 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

Impact.

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

horrific than the last. Ava, drowning in a sea of blood. Ava, burning alive.

55000

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

watch as she suffers.

wake up. The horrors

mercifully, I do wake

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

bitter liquid hits my tongue, but I force myself to swallow.

torment.

intensity. "How often has the Master fed from you?" she

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

"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

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

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

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tie lase mast but no

weten, my mind dealle

Mariel's

want is to curl

ere will die

mure endle

wees to care about

hate

detach that make

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

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

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

his fangs sinking, the agonizing pain, and the

return.

hard, trying to push the sensation

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

Lisa Fevers

For