Hey! I was feeling like fangirling, so I wrote a TFIOS fanfic... it's my first one, so please no hate! I threw it together in an hour on my iPod, so I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes. Enjoy!
Coping: it's a strange word. It's meaning is to effectively deal with something difficult.
And this is difficult, Gus.
I don't know yet if I'm dealing with it effectively, but I've tried. Sometimes you try so hard to do something and in the end it all fails.
I bet you could relate.
But I don't want my probably last letter to be depressing. Yes, this might be the last one. In a short time, I won't have to write letters; I'll be able to see you face-to-face then.
I don't want to say the actual word, though. It just reminds me of my parents' sobs.
Alright, off the topic of me. Things have been grand here on earth for the people around me. Isaac got a new girlfriend. Yes, a year after splattering Monica's car with eggs, he finally got another girl. Her name is Anna. I like her a lot, and I can tell Isaac does too. He still won't accept the robotic eyes that the doctors are making for him, though; he says that a world with out you isn't worth seeing.
But the rest of us aren't blind. We are forced into gazing about a lonely world without an Augustus Waters. It's quite dreadful, really. Almost everyday now it seems like it will rain. I don't know if that's just reflecting my mood or if the universe is snickering at my suffering. Maybe it's neither and we're just starting a rainy season.
So, my dear Augustus, how have you been? I wonder what Something looks like, or if there even is a not-heaven-but-something-like-it-that-I-don't-know-what-to-call.
I go star gazing quite often. Are there stars in Something? I hope there are. But if not, I might be able to go to my favorite spot to star gaze before leaving this world. It's not perfect, but I love it.
I can see the fault in our stars. No, I've never seen something truly perfect, but the stars are just random and out of place balls of gas millions of miles away. Until you look more closely. Then you see a big picture—a constellation. It's still amazingly beautiful. They're perfect in their own way; a perfect imperfection.
Just like every single human placed upon this earth, the stars and my Star Gazing Spot are imperfect but deserve to be loved. Just like you, Augustus. But who doesn't love you? Every single person you spoke to or met you had an impact on. Every single person you met now grieves for their non-smoking-metaphor-type-guy.
Once a grenade is activated, there is no stopping the explosion. All you can do is sacrifice yourself by putting yourself between it and other people, trying so desperately to save their lives. Even if it takes your own life (which it most likely will), you at least left your mark. Wouldn't it be cool to walk into Something and say, "I died by sacrificing my life for the sake of others." The people you saved would be eternally grateful, yet they would grieve because you, their close friend, died. They would feel guilty that they didn't do that act of selflessness instead of you.
What I'm trying to say here, Gus, is that no matter how hard you try to minimize the casualties, you realize how helpless it is to prevent that. I try to walk lightly upon this earth, so when my time comes little will be at my funeral to grieve. The marks humans leave are too often scars. Everyone wants to leave a mark before they die; it's a primordial instinct to do so. But once that mark is left, don't you think that some would be affected? That's the purpose—to affect people in a way that they'll never forget. Like saving them from a grenade.
All of that, though, just all ends in grief. And I know what you would say: "Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you."
If that's true, everything about me has been revealed. My deepest secrets, my third grade crushes, all of it. And for what?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
There will come a time when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. When the time comes that this happens, our marks will have been for naught. And why leave them if they'll one day disappear?
It's because we want to. We need to. We're all grenades; one day we're all going to explode and be forgotten, but that doesn't matter. I'm trying to minimize my casualties. Only now that I've loved a grenade do I realize the foolishness of trying to save others from my own impending fragmentation.
Only now that a grenade has loved me, I realize that I've already left my mark. Not on many, no, but deeply in the ones that I have.
I love you. Not "loved". I love you present tense.
Yrs, Hazel Grace
P.S.- I'm having a little recital tomorrow night as a last hooray before I leave. The song is for you; I realized that putting feelings into words is better than keeping them all bottled up. It's my way of coping. I'm hoping to find that you're there. Okay?
The little café was warm and comfortable, with comfy couches and a small amount of people sitting at tables with their coffee or pastries in the dim light.
Near the front, there were a few rows of chairs and two chairs in front of that; the makeshift stage.
Our small group shuffled forward, sitting in the rows and some ordering hot chocolates.
Anna's guitar was beautiful, with a carved design in the body. It was a small one, fitted to her small size.
We both walked to the front, and Mom stepped out of the audience to welcome everyone.
"Hello, family and friends. Tonight we gather to celebrate our dear Hazel's life. She will be going first, accompanied by Anna Durant." She shuffled back to her seat and gave me an encouraging smile.
"This song is dedicated to certain Augustus. According to the conventions of the genre, Augustus Waters kept his sense of humor till the end, did not for a moment waver in his courage, and his spirit soared like an indomitable eagle until the world itself could not contain his joyous soul."
I heard an almost inaudible sob from the small crowd.
Isaac.
Deep breath, in and out. In and out. Breath in as much air as that tank will allow you.
I looked over to Anna. She sat, ready, looking for my cue. I gave her a small nod, and she started playing.
One more deep breath.
The weight
Of a simple human emotion
Weighs me down
More than the tank ever did
The pain
It's determined and demanding
To ache, but I'm okay...
And I don't want to let this go
I don't want to lose control
I just want to see the stars with you
And I don't want to say goodbye
Someone tell me why
I just want to see the stars with you
You lost, a part of your existence
In the war, against yourself
Oh, the lights,
They light up in lights of sadness
Telling you, it's time to go
And I don't want to let this go
I don't want to lose control
I just want to see the stars with you
And I don't want to say goodbye
Someone tell me why
I just want to see the stars with you
Don't give it up just yet stay grand
For one more minute, don't give it up just yet
Stay grand [3x]
And I don't want to let this go
I don't want to lose control
I just want to see the stars with you
And I don't want to say goodbye
Someone tell me why
I just want to see the stars with you
With you
There was a moment of silence, the audience waiting for more song. When none came, they erupted into cheers.
Anna and I stood and bowed. I could feel a small smile creeping onto my face. When the crowd continued their applause, I broke into a grin.
The first real smile in a year.
For a moment I forgot the pain and grief. I basked in the feeling of this joy.
There was a sudden flash of light, and then Mom with camera pointed at me.
She walked to us. I could tell from the look on her face that she was astonished that I had smiled. I didn't smile anymore.
"Amazing, Hazel. Truly amazing."
I tried another deep breath. But I couldn't.
My breaths were becoming short and fast.
I can't breath.
I desperately grabbed onto Mom's shirt, gasping. Her expression changed from joy to confusion to panic.
The crowd fell silent.
"Someone call the ambulance!" she shouted. Immediately, Dad had his phone out and was dialing as fast as his fingers allowed.
Pain licked up in the center of my brain, like a flame that was steadily growing into a fire. I tried to scream, but found that I couldn't. A terrifying sound came out when I tried to breath. It felt like I was drowning.
I know this feeling.
This is what it felt like when I was first diagnosed with cancer.
This is what it felt like when you're dying.
The pain spread throughout my body, a result of being under oxygenated. My mind was fuzzy, my vision going black at the edges.
Am I going to die right here in this café?
The workers were rushing over, crowding around my body on the ground.
"Give her some space!" Mom yelled over the ruckus of people talking and screaming.
I wouldn't last much longer. I could feel the liquid filling my lungs, my body numb and without pain.
"Move out of the way!"
I froze at the voice.
And then, standing over me, was Augustus.
My Augustus Waters.
He bent down near my head, his fingers smoothing my hair. He still smelled the same, and he didn't look like the pathetic creature he was before he died. He was normal.
Wait. What?!
Before he died? Why am I seeing Augustus after he died?
Oh yeah. I'm dying too.
"Gus?" I choked out, my voice thick and so small it was barely audible.
Mom bent down on my other side while Gus smiled.
"I'm right here, Hazel Grace."
"Did you say Gus? Oh my God. Richard, she sees Augustus! She's dying!" She broke into sobs, feebly holding my head in her lap. "At least she has someone on the other side. Go to him, Hazel. It's okay to let go. You've been suffering for too long. Go to him."
Then Dad was there, crying next to Mom. Augustus took my hand.
"Let's go, Hazel Grace. It's okay. Okay?"
I gazed up at him, my grip becoming stronger on his hand. "Okay."
I stood up, but I could see myself lying in Mom's arms, eyes still staring at Gus. She shut them.
I looked away. In the blink of an eye they would join me here.
But I had Augustus, and we would be okay.
"Look. You're not wearing the tank."
There was no cord or green tank connected to me.
I'm free.
How'd you like? Please review! This is just a one-shot, unless I get feedback hearing different. Again, please review! They make my day.
Thanks for reading.
~Aubz