Chapter Eighty Seven:
Recalling an important memory.
—
HUGGING WARREN WAS the last thing that I could remember.
I don’t remember being carried to a stretcher. I don’t remember going to the hospital. And most definitely, I don’t remember having a suture procedure, or the fact that I have been unconscious for nearly more than two hours.
But I do remember having a dream.
— a dream so real that I could mistake it for reality.
However, I remembered nothing of such things.
I was in the auditorium. This is where I usually presented my project proposal, and by the looks of it; I just finished with the last presentation before the members of the board would decide whether they’ll approve my project or not. The fun thing was, this time, I wasn’t in my own point of view. Instead, I was watch
