Bet my Life (EDITING!!) #BOOK1

24. A Sky Full of Stars

"They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time."

- Banksy

White light. That's all I could see when I woke up. I opened my eyes to find myself in an unfamiliar place, white light flooding everywhere. I got up and found myself in a white dress.

Wait. Am I dead?

"Not yet. Think of it as a limbo."

A shriek left my mouth, and I turned around to find a really handsome guy dressed in a white suit.

"Guess I deserved that, huh? Well, let me introduce myself. Hello Zoey Hart, I am Alex West. I will be your tour guide. If you have any questions, please, don't hesitate to ask," he spoke, with a genuine smile.

Damn. If angels looked like this, who wouldn't want to die?

"Technically, I'm not an angel, and you're not dead yet," he looked at me amusedly.

"How did you- Can you read minds?" I asked bewildered, feeling a little violated

"Oh, no. Zoey Hart. Don't be scared. Yes, I can read minds. I'll try to stay out of your head, although, it is helpful in calming people down," he calmly explained.

"How do you know my name? Why am I here? What happened to Damian? Who was shot? Why are we dressed in white? Why am I-"

I was cut off by Alex laughing. I turned to glare at him. Here I am, confused and scared as hell, and this guy is having the time of his life. You can hear me, can't you? Well then here's a big fu-

"Nuh-uh. No swearing, please. I will answer your questions, Zoey Hart. But one at a time, please." He told me in a strict voice.

I felt tears rushing to my eyes. He gave me a sympathetic smile. Wiping them away, I took a deep breath.

"Why am I here?" I asked in a small voice.

He motioned for me to sit next to him on a bench.

"You aren't dead. But you're not alive either. So you're in a place called the limbo. Probability. There is a 50-50 chance of your survival. If you do survive, you go back to your world."

"And if I don't?" I asked, already knowing the answer to the question.

"Then you move ahead." He put his hand on my shoulder and pressed it for comfort.

"Why do you keep calling me Zoey Hart?"

"It was your identity. I guess, I just want you to hold on to it, for as long as you can."

"What happened to Damian?"

"He got beaten up by your ex-boyfriend. He is alive, but he's in jail for attempted murder and kidnapping."

"Who got shot? I heard a gunshot before I blacked out. Who was it?" I pressed, my heart racing against my chest.

"Zoey....we don't have to talk about that," he seemed worried, almost desperate to change the topic.

I felt a chill pass through my body.

"Who was it? Tell me!" I demanded, suddenly feeling sick. Can I feel sick if I'm dead?

"Tyler. It was Tyler. He got shot, trying to save you."

I felt like someone poured a bucket of ice on me. My hands were clammy, I was sweating, and my heart was beating erratically. No. It can't be. Not Ty. I don't understand.

"He's alive. For now. He has surgery planned today. He might not make it," Alex sat down cross-legged in front of me. "I'm sorry Zoey Hart."

I stood up with anger, feeling blood rush to my face.