Epilogue
I've sent them out to make me tea, I don't want them here. My breathings began to slow, that means I'm dying, I lived past the expectancy rate by a good two years, as it was seven years ago I was diagnosed. I'm not scared, why would I be? I have nothing to live for, besides my parents. But I'm dragging them down; I'm an anchor to their ship that cannot set sail. When mom finishes her degree, she will be a social worker and coach parents who are going through what we are going through, I'm glad she's doing something beneficial.
Augustus is gone, and if there is a euphoric place up above then that's where he will be, and I can only hope that one day I will be there with him. And if I will be with him, then that day will be soon. I wonder what it will be like, personally I think heaven is a place where you are at your happiest, I saw a film once called 'The Spiderwick Chronicles.' In the film (and the book) an old lady called Aunt Lucinda sees her Father, who never ages and is only in his mid-thirties, he is in the same place, a field with faeries and nymphs. The field wasn't to be there but he had to be to help, once the goblins were defeated he had to go back, but she wanted him to stay, although he couldn't. So she asked if she could go with him, and instantaneously she turned into her six year old self and stayed with the Father, the whole scene magically disappearing and the place was once again non-magic land. I think that's what heaven is like, a little piece of happiness that you can relive for infinite without ever getting bored. Obviously people's ideas of what their happiness would be and who would be there are different, so things would clash, people would overlap, but the world works in mysterious ways.
My heaven would be Amsterdam, reliving that meal Augustus and I shared in Oranjee again and again. I want to hear the sounds of people speaking words that I do not understand, I want to admire the trees, feel the soft petals fall onto my pointed nose. I want to wear the sundress, the blue print forever 21 one that's flows to my knee, with tight underneath it. I want Augustus to look at me and tell me I look gorgeous, I want to feel radiant. I want to smell the canal, and watch the never ending river. I want to try champagne for the first time all over again. I want to eat the surprisingly tasty asparagus. And if death is the only way I can get to it, then I welcome it gladly. I do not know if I'm right, chances are I'm not, but when I picture heaven, that is what I see.
The doctor said my death would happen instantly, but I don't think that's true, what is an instant? Everything happens in time, and an instant is a measurement of time, so in that instant it is possible for me to feel unbearable pain, or no pain at all. And how does he even know? Science can discover things, and I know it can tell pain, but can it really, can a machine process emotion that well? Probably, but I find it hard to believe.
I wrote my parents both a letter, and a couple of other people, Isaac and Katelyn. I just told them the usual stuff, that I will miss them and that I hope they will stay well. I didn't go all philosophical on them. My mother found her letter when helping me inject one of my needles. The slow tears fell down her pale complexion. It broke my heart, I sobbed, and she sobbed. We held each other, because we both knew that I was coming to the end. She kissed my forehead and rubbed soothing circles into my back, whilst I held her hand and told her I loved her. At first she denied it, that I wasn't going to die, that I was going to fight it. But I don't like fighting, I don't like pain, and fighting brings pain. Fighting is for wars, for people with guns, for boxers, not for a pacifist like myself. I'd rather be rid of the pain. I tried to fight of course, but it was pointless, I was better preparing myself instead trying to stop the impossible. Now we both accept it. Dreams can happen, but right now, I have to let nature take its cause, because remember, I am just another side effect. But side effects get cured, and I think there will be a cure one day, I was just too early. Darn.
I'm giving the funds I have for the future that should have been to an AIDS charity. As, like Anna, I find it a bit narcissistic to give ones money to a cancer charity if said person has cancer. Don't get me wrong, cancer is horrible, evil and nasty. But cancer Is also public, there are lots of other rare things out there that need curing, and I don't want those ill people to be overlooked, because people like that will end up wishing that they have such diseases like cancer because people care more about the cures. It's the sad truth, the doctors do terrifically well and they try for the greater good, but sometimes the smaller good need to be noticed to.
I sip the remains of the cold tea as I hear the kettle boil downstairs. I think I'm going to read An Imperial Affliction again when I finish writing this, I've decided that since Van Houten didn't tell me what happens that I'm going to find out myself. I don't like unanswered questions, they wreck my brain because everything deserves an answer, everything has an answer. Lidewij tried for months to get him to write the epilogue, but he refused, he still sits there today drinking, I think he'll die soon. Grief killed that man. We could never find Augustus' either, that will always be a mystery, maybe he will tell me in heaven. I certai
