[ WP ] Lying on your deathbed , knowing you do n't have long left to live , you open your eyes to see someone staring down at you . The face is one you have n't seen for a long time ... and one you thought you 'd never see again .

Another day has passed as I lay here in the intensive care unit. Two days have passed since I was first brought in after my heart attack. I am surprised they have kept me here that long. When I had my previous heart attack they only kept me here overnight. 
 
 *Must have been that secondary mini-heart attack... what did the doctor call it? a... * 
 
 I am interrupted from my thoughts when there is a change in the rooms lighting. Opening my eyes I grimace at glare of the painfully bright light bulb in the ceiling that had just been turned on. Someone is standing next to my bed, once my eyes adjust I can finally make out who it is. It ’ s some random guy, not sure if I had ever met him before. 
 
 `` Ugh... what the hell man, I was trying to rest here'' I asked. Not very polite, I know. 
 
 `` You do n't remember me do you?'' he asks 
 
 *Weird accent, I am sure I have heard it somewhere before* 
 
 `` No'' i reply. I was being honest; I could not remember ever having met him before. He looked about 18 or 19 years old, so probably not an old friend, or coworker. 
 
 *Oh no... * `` your not my son are you?'' I ask, hoping he would say no. Clichés are cliché for a reason after all. 
 *Did he just get angrier? How can an expressionless face still seem more angry? * 
 `` No, Monsieur, I are not'' 
 
 *Monsieur? That ’ s no French accent? Still, what a relief! * Distracted as I was, I almost missed the tiny needle that he used to inject something in my leg. Before I could cry out his hands covered my mouth, and still weakened from my heart attack I could not fight him of. 
 
 *Since when do heart attacks make someone this weak? * I wonder, still trying to remove his hand from my mouth. 
 
 Looking at me, the stranger starts to talk again. `` You are a hard man to kill, Heart attacks are supposed to be easy, yet you keep making me try over and over again to kill you. Why can ’ t you just die!'' 
 
 His voice did n't rise, yet his tone got harsher as he spoke. Who was this guy, and why did he want to ki... 
 
 *oh... * 
 
 Somehow he notices the spark of recognition in my eyes. `` Now you remember do n't you, you bastard!'' he exclaims happily, a startling contrast to his earlier stoic demeanor. 
 
 I struggled to remain conscious as whatever he injected me with started its work. Weakly I reached up, no longer bothering to remove the hand over my mouth. I managed one stroke of his cheek before he jumped back, as if scalded. 
 Now that could talk, I let out I weak chuckle. 
 
 `` Liar. ” I whispered, “ It was her idea''. 
 
 As my head become foggier, that last thing I saw was his expression change from anger to anguished horror as darkness enveloped me. 

