I fingered the pack of Camels in front of me. Some of them broken or worn. Pulling one out I recalled the day I first stuck one between my teeth and didn't give it the power to kill me. Taking a deep breath I lit it. I inhaled deeply, letting the toxic chemicals settle in my lungs. Life was hard and becoming more painful for me I was done living life as a "cancer perk". My mother ran to the stairs when she smelled the smoke.
"Are you ok?" She shouted panic when she got to my room. Her face was one of horror when she saw the lit cigarette between my lips.
"No, I'm dying. I'm letting this finish the job," I flicked ash onto my carpet.
"Call Isaac, please?" The pleading in her eyes is why I nodded. She retreated leaving me to smoke this cigarette in peace.
i called Isaac just to please her. But I got his voicemail. He was spending time with Kaitlyn since the funeral. Not that I cared I much preferred to be in bed with AIA instead. Peter Van Houten may be a shitty person but this book was our first connection. And the excuse behind on first phone call. Maybe those two would get together. It be nice knowing someone's taking care of them when I'm dead.
"Hey, Isaac it's me. I'm dying though that's nothing new. I'm smoking now. I've decide I can't live anymore. So maybe this will kill me quickly and by the time you get this I'll be dead. So could you please write a eulogy for me? Ask Kaitlyn too. I'd love it if you guys spoke for me. Talk later dude."
I hung up the phone. The cigarette gone. I smothered on my desk. One down, 19 to go. I was going to smoke this pack. Every last one of them. I took a long drag. This one wasnt going to last long, it was split down the middle. I open An Imperial Affliction and began re-reading the highlighted words. I drew a heart around our favorite quote, "pain demands to be felt". I stared at the last page reminding myself how life ends in the middle of a sentence. I was on number 9 when my phone rang: Isaac.
"What?" I coughed into the phone my voice hoarse and weak. My lungs where not liking this.
"Please don't."
"I'm sorry but I have to. I can't live like this anymore."
"I can't lose my two best friends in the same year, let alone month."
"Isaac, we're cancer kids. What did you expect?" I coughed again breathing becoming increasingly difficult.
"Fine."
"Fine what?"
"I'll write it."
"Thanks." I hung up coughing.
I smothered this one and pulled out one more. I knew I wasn't going to make it after this one. Well i smoke half the pack. That was good enough. Each one of them had touched those lips. It was all I had left, well almost. I pulled a crumpled up paper from behind the front cover. Re-Reading the eulogy written for me by the only person who ever truly knew me. I remember Peter Van Houten giving it to me. Telling me to read it, I threw it at him in a crumpled mess refusing to do so. I coughed again. Harder it was painful this time. My vision went fuzzy. I dropped the cigarette. I kissed the crumpled page holding it over my chest. Staring up at the ceiling of my room.
Closing my eyes I choked into the nothingness my
A/N: First TFIOS fic. What do you think? Am I cruel? Who's speaking? Should I post the "Epilogue"