A different end to the story

I'm just gonna leave this here. Please don't murder me because that is illegal

Disclamer: TFIOS is rightfully owned by John Green

Peter Vanhouten

I'm not sure if you were notified, or you have been and you don't really care, but Hazel Grace Lancaster died yesterday as 3:24 am. I was holding her hand when it happened. I know that only family are alowed to visit patients during visiting hours, but I felt as if I wouldn't ever see her again. So, I snuck in behind a nurse and sat next to her bed. Her nails were painted this bluey-black colour, and I just held her hand. It felt cold, as if the person it belonged to was dead, but I still felt a pulse. I tried to imagine a world without us, and what a worthless world it would be. I don't know how long I was there before she woke up. She asked me why I was there and what time it was and I simply burst into tears. Her voice sounded so hollow, alien compared to the strong voice that called you, and I quote, a "douche-pants" I didn't know what to say back to her. But I will say this; if cancer was ever a person, I would puch him in the face before kicking him in the crotch around fifty times. I finally replied with why I was there, the exact time it was and that I loved her more than anything present on this earth. To which she replied; "You romantic idiot..." Around twenty seconds later, she passed away...

I know that you probably don't care that much about this soppy love story, but I think that you should know that you were the first person I wanted to talk to when she died. Not my friends, not my sisters, not my parents. You. I know, I don't understand it either. But I think that was due to the fact that you seemed be the only one to understand what Hazel was going through. I also think you should know that I am no longer NEC. About three weeks before we met you, I went for a scan to check on an ache that was in my hip. My cancer has returned, and it is aggressive. Hazel knew about this,I never kept it from her. All I know is that I have about three months till I die, too.

Her funeral is in two days, and I've written my eulogy for her, but I could use a little help. All I can say is that you're a shitty person but a good writer, I'm a good person but a shitty writer. We'd make a good team. All I want, is for the world to know just how special Hazel really was. How she was different to the rest of the world. For instance, most people want to make a name for themself, to leave a prominent mark on the world. Not Hazel. She simply wanted to pass through life unnoticed and unappreciated. She failed at that thanks to me. But the thing you have to understand is the fact that she didn't want a million admirers, she just wanted one. And she got it. I don't know, what else? she was the most beautiful creature that ever graced the earth, you never got tired of looking at her she was that gorgeous, she always knew what to say before anyone else even thought of it, she was kind and loving, always filling a room with smiles even if she wanst smiling herself. She didn't deserve this. No one deserves to die before they've even got a chance to live. If God even exists in this shit-hole of a universe, I would like to speak with him. Who knows, maybe I'll get thrown into oblivion for saying such harsh words? Maybe he'll reward me for finally realising what a terrible place the world really is?

A few days after she'd come home from been rushed to hospitalized due to water in her lungs, she asked me to come over to her house because she said that everything was sad. We sat on a swing set of tears and just talked about what was sad. I noticed that she was quiet. When she told me that the Phalanxifor drug was begining to stop working, I'd felt as if I'd been shot in the chest. I tried to remain positive about the situation, but I felt as if I was suffocating. Hazel simply told be that she was a grenade set to go off at any point, that she was going to obliverate everything in her wake and that she didn't want me to get hurt. That's how much she cared. That was when I knew I loved her.

I loved her so much, Vanhouten, more than you could ever possibly realise. Now she's gone, I can only hope that my own death will come quickly so I can go with her. I don't care about anything anymore. I just want to see her again. Maybe I'll start lighting my metaphors...

You don't choose the way life will end, but you do have some say in how life will go. I like my choices.

I hope she liked hers

Augustus