The Fault in Our Stars Part 2 | Teen Ink

The Fault in Our Stars Part 2

October 3, 2013
By MaddieG13 BRONZE, Kings Mountain, North Carolina
MaddieG13 BRONZE, Kings Mountain, North Carolina
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"My thought are thousands of stars I cannot fathom into constellations." -John Green

Part 2

After I read the letter Augustus wrote, I sat on my bed and stared at the ceiling, hoping in that oh so cliché way he would see me. All at once, I was crying yet again. You know that point in crying where you literally cannot cry another tear? Yep. That’s me. I’m so tired of not being happy. Yet, the only person that I want to talk to about being unhappy is Augustus Waters himself. “Oh Augustus, you sure know how to get a girl to be absolutely ludicrous.” I said aloud to him. As if he can hear me. God, I miss him. I feel like one of those stupid girls whose relationship ends, and they go straight crazy. I refuse to be a stupid girl who goes straight crazy. That’s not the girl Augustus Waters fell in love with. That’s not me. I hear Mom at my door, debating whether or not to knock. In the end, she does. “Hazel? Sweetie, your father and I are worried about you. You need to go outside. Breathe some fresh air.” “If I could actually breathe, that would be a valid statement.” I replied ever so sarcastically. “Hazel, do not say that. You just need a little extra help, that’s all.” She said earnestly, but I know she’s just saying that to make it less painful for her. Since Augustus died (it still doesn’t feel normal to say that), I haven’t been feeling too well. Which, when you have cancer and all, isn’t a great thing. I have to start another round of chemo today. #whatislife. I almost want to run out of my house and never stop. Just keep going until I can’t go anymore, but of course I can’t. I still have my parents to worry about. I know the chemo won’t work, though. When you’ve had cancer as long as I have, you know when something isn’t working. I’m not scared anymore. I never really have been scared, but when the time comes, I’ll be ready for it. Besides, I’ll have Augustus. What else could I ever need? I just hope my parents turn out okay. They’ve gotten pretty strong over the past few years, but how strong do you need to be when you lose a child? “Hazel, time to go to chemo! Let’s all go and be positive!” my Mom yelled through the house. Gosh, my life.

The Children’s Hospital of Indianapolis is in a state of panic when we walk through the door of the lobby. Apparently, someone isn’t doing so hot. A random nurse I haven’t ever seen in my life told us to go ahead upstairs to the chemo floor. Yes, there is a floor with a bunch of lounge chairs just for chemo patients. Not many people venture up to this floor because of all the gross things that happen up here. What gross things you might ask? Well, me being the odd person I am, plan to tell you. When the doctors start your chemo drip, you don’t feel half bad. It’s when the chemo starts going into your body that the ugly begins to unleash. You feel so sick, and puke so much, it’s like you would rather die than take another round. But you keep going. You keep pushing through. Because you’re strong. You’re on a rollercoaster that only goes up. At least that’s what they tell us. When the elevator doors open, I’m immediately showed to a chair and the nurse starts the chemo drip. After about 10 minutes, I start to puke in my puke pail. Oh, what a joyous life to live.

After my chemo was done, I headed back home. Usually when I get home, I go straight to the couch and watch ANTM. Today, however, I decided to go to my room and read Max Mayhem for awhile. Awhile turned out to be about 3 hours. I saw Mom’s shadow under my door. She tends to stay there these days. Actually, I think I saw her bring a chair yesterday. I think she thinks if she stays there, she’ll somehow save me if I start drowning. How do I drown you ask? My lungs are slowing filling with fluid. It’s not exactly wonderful to wake up and not be able to breathe, but that day will probably come soon. When it happens, my parents will rush me to the hospital, and the doctors will attempt to drain my lungs. I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly looking forward to that happening. Even though it’s only 8 o’clock, I’m gonna go to sleep. Sleep fights cancer, so I don’t feel too much like a dork.

That was the last day of Hazel Grace’s life. After her death, her parents decided to move to Amsterdam. They thought that since that’s where their daughter was happiest and fell in love, that’s where they should be. Van Hueten, the author of The Imperial Affliction, is still quite drunk.

The author's comments:
John Green is life.

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