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

at the sight of my wrists, raw and

on, come on. No time to waste. She tugs at my

Clothes I don't recognize-a simple white night dress that is several sizes too big,

tiny woman herds me across the room, muttering under her breath. I 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 me feel like a

almost feels comforting to be afraid

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

murder me.

Waking in

reach a door, and she pushes it open, revealing a bathroom. "In. Shower. Make it

can protest, she shoves me inside and

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

gaunt. I've watched my fingers grow to little more than

God.

skeleton with

Horrible.

the hell is happening?" I whisper to

answers. She looks as lost

Part of me wants to march over and slam open

water, of washing away the grime I

shaking hands, I peel off the shift dress. My body underneath is a map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh, angry red against my pale skin. Others are older, fading to sickly yellows and greens. Marisol

kidnapping victim, it

trying to escape my chains. That usually involved falling to the floor in various painful ways. And when it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying to

surprised my wrists and ankles

hot water hits my battered

over me with a sense of peace and cleanliness I haven't felt since... well,

ledge is the first thing I grab, rubbing it all over

at my

as if I could wash away the memories along with the dirt. By

skin is pink and raw, but I feel

tangled mess. I'm not even 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 the