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

behind her.

sound comes out. The shadow reaches for Ava, engulfing her, dragging her away as she kicks and struggles. I lunge

a plane, Ava beside me. She's gripping the armrests, making a joke about the turbulence. I reach for her hand to comfort her,

Impact.

rends. Flames erupt. Pain

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

55000

I'm helpless to

watch as she suffers.

up. The horrors play out again and again,

finally, mercifully, I

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

I force myself to swallow. Anything to chase away the lingering images of

torment.

often has the Master fed from you?" she

her, 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,

you

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

to that. The idea that this monster might favor

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room, tie lase mast but

weten, my mind dealle

Mariel's

all I want is

ere will die

mure endle

wees to care about my discomfort.

hate prodding at my skin

detach that make me

first, I'm not sure what she's doing. Her fingers press against my neck, my wrists, my ankles. It's only when she peers down at my

my voice rough from

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

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.

to push

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

Fevers

For