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

of my wrists,

on. No time to waste. She tugs at my

wobble beneath me, and the floor is cool against my bare feet. Bare feet? Ah. Clothes I don't recognize-a simple white night dress that is several sizes

questions-but they stick in my throat. There's something about her demeanor, gruff and no-nonsense, that makes me feel like

so much time in fear that it almost

if this tiny person

murder me.

Waking in

open, revealing a bathroom. "In. Shower.

shoves me inside and slams the door

is pale, eyes wide with confusion and fear.

watched my fingers grow to little more

God.

skeleton with

Horrible.

is happening?" I whisper

has no answers. She looks as lost

of me wants to march over and slam open the door, demanding answers to

the promise of hot water, of washing away the grime I can feel coating my skin, and the memories of... however long it's

My body underneath is a map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh,

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

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

I'm surprised my wrists and ankles

under the spray, whimpering as the hot water hits

a sense of peace and cleanliness I haven't

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

at my

I could wash away the memories along with

is pink and raw,

is a tangled mess. I'm not even sure it's possible to brush it out. Still, I take my time washing

Waking in

brushing out