22.

"Your gift is ready!" You had jumped to your feet, and graciously held out your hand to support me, which I took, gladly. "Let's go!"

You didn't leave my hand, and gently pulled me away from the park. I didn't mind it, because your touch was indescribably soothing; it felt like warmth was spreading through my hand and arm like a liquid.

I was smiling, but it faltered when I heard something behind me. . . no, it wasn't behind me, it was all around me.

Those noises had come back again.

You noticed my sluggish movements, and turned back to look at me. "What happened?"

"I-I think I'm hearing things," I muttered, straining my ears to hear them again, to discern what they were saying.

I had had moments like that, when I would randomly hear people speak incoherently. I never really focused on them before, because I was always surrounded by people (but not really).

The few, rare times I'd heard these noises when I was alone, I didn't think much of it, because I felt like I was always imagining them.

But at that moment, the noises were much stronger, louder, I had almost heard a full sentence.

I had heard a broken sentence, with words missing in between. "She. . . unconscious. . . can we do. . . no one. . . know. . . secret. . . deadline. . . tomorrow. . . miracle. . ." I said, loudly.

I was hit with the realisation that all the other times I had heard the voices, the word 'miracle' was always used, but didn't say it out loud.

You didn't exactly look troubled, but you looked. . . sad?

"What does that mean?" I had asked.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing. Now, come on, your gift is waiting. If we're late, it may go away!"

I didn't know how a gift could 'go away,' but I obliged nevertheless, pushing the voices and words to the back of my mind.

Those words were probably nothing, but a fragment of my imagination.

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