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 wrists, raw and

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

feet? Ah. Clothes I don't recognize-a simple white night dress that is several sizes too big, soft and deceptively clean. I'm sure it's a mess

I want to ask questions. -so many questions-but they stick in my

fear that it almost feels comforting to

therapy, if this tiny person isn't dragging me around

murder me.

Lisa: Waking

she pushes it open, revealing a bathroom. "In. Shower.

I can protest, she shoves me inside

reflection in the mirror. My face is pale, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Dark circles underneath them speak of exhaustion

fingers grow

God.

look like a skeleton with some skin hanging off

Horrible.

is happening?" I

has no answers. She looks as lost as I

turn to the shower, eyeing it warily. Part of me wants to march over and slam open the door, demanding answers to all my

washing away the grime I can feel coating my skin, and

I peel off the shift dress. My body underneath is a map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh, angry

a kidnapping victim, it

floor in various painful ways. And when it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying

I'm surprised my wrists

under the spray, whimpering as the hot water hits my battered skin. But

with a sense of peace and cleanliness I haven't felt since...

of soap on the ledge is the first thing I grab, rubbing it all

at my

away the memories along with

my skin is pink and raw, but I

it out. Still, I take my

Waking in

brushing out