His heart rates dropping! I need oxygen. Get me oxygen now! He's dying! *Beep* He has flat lined. The President of The United States has Flat lined and its all my fault.
It's been almost an hour since I, Dr. McCollen may or may not have killed the most important, the most successful man on the planet. I have been staring blankly at a wall since then try to figure what I should do. What could I possibly do? A simple easy go in and check the mans brain turned into me murdering the president on an accidental matter. He died in a rather slow matter. His heart rate depleted from no oxygen was getting to his brain those damn nurses. I can't rely on them to do anything anymore. But non the difference. I killed him it is my fault.
