Unbearable (Unexpected Sequel)|✔️

66- I Did It First

This could've very well have been a prank. Dean always loved to annoy me. "Very funny, Dean. Time to wake up," I said, testing it out. When he remained frozen, I sighed. "Come on, you got shot in the chest. That's no excuse for your brain not to work – not that it worked in the first place." I let out a laugh but it turned into a sob as more tears flowed down my face. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Nothing.

Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against his. "Please wake up."

"Bella, you need to go home. We have school tomorrow," Dylan said. I turned around to face him, unsure when he even came back. Natalie trailed behind him, looking sheepish. She must've called him.

"Bella, go home. It's not doing any good for you to just sit here," she added with a reassuring smile.

I took one nervous glance at Dean before nodding. "Okay." Both looked relieved but didn't rush me. I turned back to Dean and whispered. Hopefully, he could hear me. "Look buddy, I'm expecting you to wake up by the time I get back tomorrow. And if you don't... I'll break up with you. Yeah! I'll go out with Reece or Andrew just to spite you."

Still nothing.

Heaving a sigh, I kissed his forehead. "And if you don't wake up... I hope you know I love you so much."

I hated the pessimism but I wanted to take precautions. On the off chance that he never woke up again, I wanted to say my goodbyes. You never knew what would happen.

"Please wake up," I whispered one last time before standing up and wiping my tears. Dylan wrapped his arm around me as he led me out of the dreaded hospital I made my own room.

~~~

I was there again. Beachwood Park.

It was dark outside. Dean's gang was huddled around, waiting for his arrival. I was eavesdropping on their conversation about how he wasn't going to show up.

And then he did.

He looked magnificent under the streetlights. His cheekbones and jaw laid out shadows on his face. His eyes glowed in the darkness of the night. His hair was disheveled, making him look dangerously handsome.

His leather-clad body exuded confidence. He wryly smiled at his gang mates, joking around with them yet managing to keep his superior stance. Everyone around him looked unimportant; minuscule like they were specks of dust on the Earth.

Then the first shot rang out. Almost instinctively, I looked down at my arm. My brows furrowed in confusion. I had been through this scenario enough times to predict the outcome. Where was the pain? The stinging? Why didn't it hurt?

The gunshots continued. I kept searching for my bullet wound. Where was it?

When I looked back up at the gang, they were all gone. Then the gunshots stopped and I was left in an eerie silence.

This was different.

I blinked and Dean reappeared. This time, he was staring directly at me, like he knew I was there the entire time. He stood there, ten feet away. I couldn't see his expression from here, only his piercing eyes. Then he spoke.

"Bella. This is all your fault."

Then the gunshots resumed. This time, they weren't directed at me. Dean stupidly stood in the exposed area. His body twitched every time a new bullet pierced his skin. He kept letting himself get shot. 

No no no! I was the one who was supposed to get shot! Not him!

The reality of the scenario was finally catching up to my mind. I screamed.