Beep. Beep. Beep.

You lie on the gurney, weak and stale like everything else in the hospital. The horrid stench of medicine and sickly people make their way through your nostrils, and for a moment you become a little paranoid about inhaling this air through your mouth. But you do anyway.

Your dry mouth froths up as you run your tongue against a pair of dry cracked lips. Even in doing this simple task you are unsure of your success because your body is so numb and weak that it is almost impossible to feel anything on the surface of your body. You can't even tell what the temperature is. The only thing you can feel is a deep, lingering pain in your lower abdomen; a trophy from your operation. You try to reach for the 'pain-pump', hoping to ease that intense throbbing, but your body is much too weak. In your frustration you try to call out for a doctor. Pointless; in your current state the only thing you can push from your voice box is a quiet grumble.

You don't even know how long you've been out for. Where are your family and friends? Where are the doctors? After the ordeal that put you here you should have had at least a few people to greet you upon waking up. Your vision is still cloudy - you can't make out much. You can see clearly until about a meter from your gurney, and everything else is just white, faded shadows and figures.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You can hear that sound from a room down the hall. Somebody is dead. The sound of that failing heartbeat monitor is something you know all too well. As a matter of fact, it's the last thing you remember before waking up in your current state.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You hear it again, but this time it's not from the same room. It is closer. Probably the room next to yours, but you don't know for sure.

You can't help but feel a little paranoid at all of this. The beeping has been slowly creeping up the hallway towards your room. That feeling of dread hits you, and you wonder if maybe you are next. Maybe that beeping will be coming from your monitor next?

Suddenly, your fears are lulled when a doctor makes his way into your room. You can only see the shadowy figure from a distance, but as it comes closer, that same feeling of dread engulfs you once more.

Why is the doctor holding a needle?

You try to move, but you are just too weak. You see the doctor grab the IV and insert his needle into it. With one swift movement, he pumps the entire content of the needle into the tube.

It's air.

But instead of the bubbles rising to the top of the top, they pummel down, closer and closer to your skin as you try so hard to pull yourself free.

But you can't.

Eventually the bubbles will enter you veins and pump their way into your heart, killing you instantly.

You could spend these last moments wondering why this man killed you. Wonder what his motive was; what his ultimate goal was. Was it a mercy? Was it pure evil?

But that doesn't matter.

The only questions you ask yourself are the ones that matter. Were you happy with your life? Do your loved ones know how you feel about them? Is there life after death?

But you don't have a lot of time to think before your senses fade away one last time. You feel the bubbles clench inside your heart and absolutely everything you were and ever would have been fades into nothing.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

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