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,

to waste. She tugs at my arm by the elbow, her strength surprising

recognize-a simple white night dress that is several sizes

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

in fear that it almost feels comforting to be afraid of

therapy, if this

murder me.

Waking in

and she pushes it open, revealing

me

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

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

God.

with some

Horrible.

the hell is happening?" I whisper to my

in the mirror has no answers. She looks as

to march over and slam open the door, demanding answers to all

of hot water, of washing away the grime I can feel coating my skin, and the memories

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

being a kidnapping victim, it

various painful ways. And when it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying to do basic stretches and exercises to keep up my muscle mass-hard to do with heavy chains weighing me

wrists and ankles

it on, steam quickly filling the small space. I step under the spray, whimpering as the hot water hits my

a sense of peace and cleanliness I haven't

ledge is the first thing I grab, rubbing it all over me until it turns in

at my

away the memories along with the dirt. By the

done, my skin is pink and

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

Lisa. Waking in

out