Tangled

Unshift 242

Unshift 242

242 Lisa: Waking in Comfort

LISA

Waking up in a bed is too comfortable.

My brain wants to wake, but my body wants to keep sleeping.

If this comfort is little more than an elaborate trap before I'm murdered, just take me away. At least I'll be going in bliss.

A sharp poke in my side jolts me from my half-asleep musings. I crack open an eye, squinting against the sudden brightness. A face swims into view, so close I can count every wrinkle etched into leathery skin.

"Up! Up, you lazy girl!"

The voice is shrill, grating against my eardrums. I blink,

40 focus on the owner of that

voice. It's a woman, impossibly small, with a nose so red it could guide Santa's sleigh.

I open my mouth to speak, but my tongue feels like sandpaper. Before I can form words, a stinging slap lands on my calf. The pain is sharp, unexpected, and I jerk away, nearly tumbling off

the bed.

"Ow! What the-"

"No time for your nonsense," the tiny woman interrupts, waving a hand in front of my face. Her fingers are gnarled, reminding me of tree roots. "You stink. Shower. Now"

I sit up, head spinning. The room tilts and sways around me. Where am I? How did I get here? The last thing I remember is... Darkness, Cold. A strange man who brought me out of my personal hell. The tiny woman's groan snaps me back to the present. "Look at this mess. Filthy! You've ruined

the sheets."

I glance down at the bed. The once-white linens are stained with dirt and... is that blood? My

my

on, come on. No time to waste. She tugs at my arm by the elbow,

is cool against my bare feet. Bare feet? Ah. Clothes I don't recognize-a simple white night dress that is several sizes too big, soft and

want to ask questions. -so many questions-but they stick in my throat. There's something about her demeanor, gruff and no-nonsense, that makes

fear that it almost feels comforting to be afraid

I'm going to need some serious therapy, if this tiny person isn't dragging

murder me.

Lisa: Waking in

door, and she pushes it open, revealing

she shoves me inside and slams the door

in the mirror. My face is pale, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Dark circles underneath them speak of exhaustion I can feel in my bones.

fingers grow to little more than

God.

look like a skeleton with some skin hanging

Horrible.

is happening?" I

the mirror has no answers. She looks as

eyeing it warily. Part of me wants to march over and slam open the

washing away the grime I can feel coating my skin, and the memories of... however

a map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh, angry red

being a kidnapping victim, it wasn't technically all that bad,

it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying to do basic stretches and exercises to keep up

my wrists

the small space. I step under the spray, whimpering as the hot

with a sense of peace and cleanliness I

is the first thing I grab,

at my

I could wash away the memories

my skin is pink and raw, but I feel more like

sure it's possible to brush it out. Still, I take my time washing it with shampoo and conditioner, leaving in a layer of conditioner in hopes it will

Waking in

out