Chapter 3: The Healing Touch

Tears streamed down my face, and I clutched my head, a searing pain piercing through my thoughts. It felt as if my mind were caught in the relentless whirlwind of sensations.

"Ughhh," I groaned as I jolted awake, my eyes snapping open. I scrambled to my feet, bewildered to find myself encircled by a group of children and adults, their expressions mirroring my own astonishment.

The children wore shabby, ill-fitted blue garments, their white trousers bearing the unmistakable signs of wear and tear. The adults, dressed in uniform white attire reminiscent of nurses, were all women.

A maelstrom of confusion gripped me, and the looks of disbelief in their eyes mirrored my own state of mind.

Then, without warning, something fall to floor.

Crash! A plate crashed to the floor, shattering with a deafening noise that reverberated through the room. Amid the chaos, a young child's voice cried out, "Mike~~ Mike is alive!!"

The declaration acted like a spark igniting an emotional wildfire. Others around me began to scream, their voices a cacophony of astonishment and relief. Beside me, a girl clung to me tightly, her tears staining my shoulder. In my dazed state, it was a struggle to grasp the reality of the situation. Had I truly returned from the brink of death?

Through her sobs, the young girl managed to utter, "Mike, Sister said you were dead because you stopped breathing. Why, Mike, why did you jump from the top floor? Huarhhhhhh."

My mind swirled with a tumultuous mix of emotions and thoughts. Was I genuinely alive, or was this an ethereal dream? Almost to myself, I whispered, "I'm alive? Did I really die?"

A voice in the distance murmured, "How is he alive again? I'm sure he wasn't breathing when i check on him just now."

I was certain the voice belonged to one of the adult women in nurse-like attire. Following that, one of them commanded, "Enough, Ella. Let Mike breathe. The rest of you, go out from this room now."

Gradually, the other children filed out of the room under the guidance of the women. I was left alone in the room, attempting to piece together the fragments of this bewildering puzzle. I surveyed the surroundings; the room appeared fairly ordinary, adorned with stone walls, a rudimentary wooden table, and chair. Candles illuminated the space, and intriguingly, there was no ceiling fan, yet the room maintained a comfortable temperature.

(I suppose that's the only peculiarity here,) I mused.

My gaze wandered, and I noticed I was sprawled on the floor with a nearby bloodstained blanket.

Suddenly, an agonizing pain lanced through my head again, eliciting a cry of "Aarghh!"

A woman rushed into the room, concern etched on her features. "Mike, what's wrong?" she inquired urgently.

Still wracked with pain, I managed to reply, "Head... hurts."

In the midst of my suffering, I heard her murmur, "Heal."

I strained to open my eyes, squinting in her direction. Her hands emitted a soft, radiant glow as she touched my forehead.

Her hands, aglow with an ethereal warmth, gently pressed against my head, and an extraordinary sensation enveloped my mind. It was as though a curative energy flowed from her fingertips, gradually easing my torment. The pain subsided, leaving behind a dull ache.

"Feeling better now?" she inquired, her smile exuding kindness.

I nodded, still grappling with the bizarre circumstances I found myself in.

"Now, Mike, it's late, and you should rest," she advised gently. "Mike, we're relieved that you're alive. Tomorrow morning, we'll talk."

With that, she guided me to another room furnished with a bed. I lay down, my mind teeming with unanswered questions and uncertainty. As I closed my eyes, the world around me faded, and I surrendered to a fitful sleep, hoping to get the answer.