Augustus Waters bolted upright, clutching his chest and heaving watered-down coughs. His parents groaned; it had been a rough couple of days. Everyone knew Gus was nearing the edge, nearing the time when he would walk slowly up to the cliff and then jump off without warning. He was already in the hospital, and had been for two whole days. That meant two whole days of coughing and heart palpitations and monitors and constant beeping that reminded Augustus and his family he only had a little bit of time left. However, during those two days, nobody had felt as though Gus was there yet. He hadn't reached the cliff. Hazel came in and spent hours upon hours talking and laughing with her Gus, trying to get as much time with him as she could. His parents understood, they knew how in love those two were. Still, when it came to the night that was almost positively Augustus' last, they kept her away. Yes, Emily Waters called Hazel to tell her it could be the last night, but she held the girl from visiting, as she didn't want her to feel more depressed than she would be anyways. So when the final night came, Hazel wasn't there.
Heaving coughs echoed throughout the room, and Emily placed a hand on her son's back, hoping to soothe the pain that was described as a fat man wearing a stiletto standing in the middle of Augustus' chest, but the pain never left. Eventually, the coughing stopped.
"It's so unfair," Gus said bluntly. He took a sharp intake of breath and winced.
"I know, but-" Emily was cut off by a more powerful Gus voice.
"Cancer is so goddamned UNFAIR!" he rumbled, "I'm a good person, I deserve to be with Hazel without worrying which one of us is going to die first. I deserve to have a shot at growing old with her, but no, I can't, because something that is made of me is killing me, and we can't figure out how to stop it. It's SO unfair." His voice was weak.
"Augustus," Mark Waters began.
"When I die, make sure Hazel knows how much I love her," Gus whispered.
"Of course, Gus, we'll tell her how much you loved her." his mother said.
"No, no, not loved, mom, love. Present-tense."