GEORGES PERSPECTIVE:
"Dream?" I call out. Nick, Dream, Tina and I were screwing around our pool, not actually going in, but Dream and I, not Nick, had been drinking a bit. The pool lights and outdoor lights were turned off, so it's pitch black outside. It's late. About 1am. And our pool is really deep. So when Nick thought it was a brilliant idea to wrestle around with Dream and fall into the water fight in the pool, Dream didn't come back up.
Nick laughs, getting out of the water, squeezing the bottom of his shirt to get the water out. I can only barely see him walk over to me.
"Dream, let's go inside," Nick says. I look at Nick, and see he's got a little gash on the side of his head.
"You're bleeding," I say.
"Yeah, Dream and I were tussling a lot. I think he hit his head, too. We got really close to the steps and really close to the side of the pool, we should've stopped," Nick says.
"Dream?" I say, walking towards the edge of the pool. I cant see anything until I find myself taking off my shoes and jacket and diving in.
Underwater, I can see clearer for some reason, and I can see Dream unconscious in the pool. I can hear Nick jump in behind me, and the pair of us work together to pull him out.
As we get out of the pool and pull Dream to the side, I pray to god that he's breathing. I'm not religious, I never have been, but I've prayed before. but i had never prayed harder in that moment.
Nick runs inside and turns the outdoor lights on, but they're only dim. But you can see that there's a pool of blood leaking from his head, and his neck is scratched up.
Then, nervously, I put my hand to his neck and feel for his pulse. I give it three seconds to tell me if there's a pulse.
1...
2...
3...
Nothing.
I put my hand to my mouth, and Nick knows.
"Oh my god," I say, starting to find it hard to breathe.
Suddenly, he starts coughing, a bit of water trickling out of his mouth laced with blood, and he sits up, frantically coughing. He turns over, on his hands and knees, spitting up water and blood.
Nick and I step back and give him some air, and Nick gets him a bottle of water.
"That's the last thing I want right now," Dream shouts at him, catching his breath. His head is bleeding, really bad, and there's blood in the pool.
"You dickhead," Dream mutters, panting. He stands up, wipes his forehead and sees the blood on his hands. "You almost killed me."
"I- im sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Didn't mean to what?! Slam my head into the fucking wall? Yeah. Good one, genius. I almost died, and my blood would've been on your hands." Dream grabs Nick's arm, turns it over to look at his hands and sees blood on them. Dream scoffs, throws Nick's hand down. "Literally."
"Dude, I hit my head too." Nick says.
"Is my pool shallow?"
"No..."
"Did you know I drank tonight?"
"Yes..."
"Did you know we were close to the side of the pool and the stairs?"
"Yes..."
"So why the fuck did you think it was a great idea to wrestle me into the water, push my head into the fucking tiles and keep pushing me down?"
"Dude! You grabbed my shirt to pull me down," Nick argues back.
"I grabbed your shirt to tell you to stop! I was shaking you to tell you to let go of me! And what did you do?!"
Nick is silent. I gulp and get ready to intervene.
"What the fuck did you do?!" Dream shouts.
Nick is still silent. His breathing is uneasy and quickens up.
"Nothing," Nick whispers.
"Speak up. I couldn't hear you." Dream says, looking Nick dead in the eyes who looks like he's about to cry.
"Nothing," Nick speaks up only a little bit. Dream shakes his head, laughs.
"Idiot. You're a fucking idiot." He shoves Nick, he almost stumbles to the floor, and Dream walks inside, still dripping from the pool. As he walks in, he mutters, "almost fucking killed me."
I quickly walk in the house, Nick right behind me, and Dream grabs his phone from the kitchen counter. He goes on Snapchat and looks at his forehead.
"I think you should go to the hospital," I say. "Security can drive."
"It's fine, I'll sleep on it," he says. "Get someone to get bandages though, it's still bleeding," he says. Nick wants to leave, so he goes and gets security. Two of them come in, bandages in their hands already.
"What happened?" One of them asks.
"Nick happened," Dream says. "He was being stupid. More than he already is." Nick is trying his best not cry, because hearing your best friend talk about you like that obviously hurts. He quickly rushes upstairs to his room. I follow him up and knock on his door.
"Go away," he says from inside his room.
"Please, can I talk to you-"
"Go away, George."
