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

creep in at the edges of my vision, dark tendrils snaking across the ground. I try to

behind her.

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

turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her, but the plane lurches, throwing us forward. Oxygen Ava's screaming. I'm screaming. The

Impact.

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

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

55000

always, I'm

watch as she suffers.

I can't escape. I can't wake up. The horrors

I

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

liquid hits my tongue, but I force myself to swallow. Anything to chase away

torment.

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

stare at her, surprised by the question. "Just once,"

a single feeding." There's something in her tone, an undercurrent of emotion

you

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

to respond to that. The idea that this monster might favor me fills

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room, tie lase mast but no words coming

weten, my mind dealle

with Mariel's odd

all I want is to curl

ere will die

mure endle

she doesn't wees to care about

hate prodding

that

sure what she's doing. Her fingers press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's

out, my voice rough

looks 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

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

return.

hard, trying 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 you were in love with the

Lisa Fevers and

For