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

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

behind her.

as she kicks

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 outside the windows is a blur of sky and ground, rushing closer and

Impact.

erupt. Pain sears. Ava's hand.

each more horrific than the last. Ava, drowning

55000

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

watch as she suffers.

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

mercifully, I do

back in my cell, shivering and drenched in sweat. My throat feels raw, my limbs heavy and weak. Marisol kneels beside me.

as the bitter liquid hits my tongue, but I force myself to

torment.

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

surprised by the question. "Just once," I

"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

you

as she mutters, "He must favor

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

]]

room, tie lase mast but

weten, my mind dealle

with Mariel's odd

aut all I want is to curl up

ere will die

mure endle

to care about my discomfort.

her hate prodding at my skin with

detach that make

my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers down

rough from disuse and screaming. "He only

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

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

return.

to

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

Fevers and

For