CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Jason's hunched figure could be seen from a distance. The wooden beach chair he was lying on looked out of place, it was probably because it was meant for a luxurious beach and not a small pond at the back of the orphanage.
Jason rubbed his temple with his finger in a futile attempt to alleviate the persistent throbbing pain there. Slowly, his hands moved from his temple down his neck, for a moment it felt like the lower his hand went, the persistent the pain was. It felt like the throbbing pain was actually following the direction of his hands.
Suddenly, the comfortable wooden chair felt like it was lined with corrosive and he had to stand up. Pacing felt okay until he became incessantly dizzy and he had to sit back down.
