I wake up, to see a small child, (about 5 or 6 years old) leaning over my bedside. He has beautiful blue eyes, and jet black hair.
“DADDY, HE’S OPENED HIS EYES!” He shouts, running over to Anthony, who was asleep on a couch near my bedside, with his back turned towards me.
I couldn’t wait to see his face.
Ian rouses Anthony, but he still doesn’t wake up.
“Not again Ian.” He grunts. “He’s never going to wake up, I told you that. Now sit down.”
“No dad, just look at him.” Ian says, pointing to me.
I would say something, but I can’t talk.
“Finee.” Anthony sighs, and sits up.
He’s changed. His usual mop-like hair with a side fringe is replaced with a short haircut, slicked back with gel, no doubt.
He’s wearing glasses too, and has a goatee.
“IAN!” He rushes over to my bedside. “You’re awake! OH MY GOD, NURSE! NURSE!”
I want to touch his face so badly, but I can’t move my arms for some reason. I can’t feel my legs either.
I know my arms will be fine, but I feel uncertain about my legs.
There’s this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if I’ve lost them?
I continue trying to talk, until I finally whisper “Anthony.” He’s not here to hear it though, because he’s rushing around to find a nurse for some reason.
Did I almost die? Probably.
I’m so glad I’m awake now! Everything is going to be fine. I’ll sell the house, move to L.A and see Anthony every day, like old times. Who knows, Smosh might start up again!
Anthony comes back, two nurses and a doctor following him.
“I’m not crazy, I tell ya!” He says, pointing to me. “Look, his eyes are open. And he’s blinking. There’s your proof.”
The doctor shakes his head. “I don’t believe it.”
“He actually woke up.” A nurse adds.
“That’s unbelievable. A bullet to heart, spine and head, and he survived.” The second nurse adds, grabbing out the notebook from the end of my bed and writing in it.
Wait, I got shot three times? Did the guy shoot me twice more when I collapsed, to make sure I was dead?
“Now, I’ve got some good news and some bad news for you Mr. Hecox.” The doctor says. “The good news is… Well, you’re alive.” He walks over to my bedside. “But the bad news is that your spinal cord was badly damaged in the incident. You will never be able to walk again.”