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

tugs at my arm by the elbow, her strength

against my bare feet. Bare 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

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

time in fear that it almost feels comforting to be afraid of

need some serious therapy, if this tiny person

murder me.

Lisa: Waking in

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

protest, she shoves me inside

staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face is pale, eyes wide

grow

God.

a skeleton with some

Horrible.

happening?" I whisper

has no answers. She looks as lost as I

Part of me wants to march

water, of washing away the grime I

map of bruises and scrapes. Some look fresh, angry red against my pale skin. Others

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

it wasn't escape attempts, it was me trying to do basic stretches and exercises to keep up my muscle mass-hard to do

surprised my wrists and ankles

I step under the spray, whimpering as the hot water hits my battered

sense of peace and cleanliness

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

at my

away the memories along

and

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

Lisa. Waking

brushing out the