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

the sight of my wrists,

my arm by the elbow, her strength surprising

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

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

almost feels comforting to be afraid of someone like

therapy, if this tiny person isn't dragging

murder me.

Lisa: Waking

it open, revealing a bathroom.

shoves me inside and slams the

the sudden quiet, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face is pale, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Dark

my fingers grow to little more

God.

skeleton with some skin

Horrible.

the hell is happening?" I whisper

the mirror has no answers. She looks

to the shower, eyeing it warily. Part of me wants to march over

the grime

My body underneath is a map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh, angry red against my pale skin. Others are older, fading to

fact, for being a kidnapping victim, it wasn't technically

falling to the floor in various painful ways. And when it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying to do basic stretches and exercises

I'm surprised my wrists and

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

me with a sense of peace

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

at my

the memories

pink and raw, but I feel more

it's possible to brush it out. Still, I take my

Lisa. Waking

brushing out the