Hello, my name is Hazel Grace.

I have cancer.

I'm in the hospital.

And this is the story of how I died.

Everybody knows that everybody dies but it's how you deal with it that defines who you are. Well, I woke up one morning feeling weightless. It's like a strange feeling because usually my lungs and Philip, they feel so heavy, but today, even when I get out of bed and walk a little bit, they seem like they contain nothing, like they mean nothing. Which is of course untrue – without either, I'd be dead in minutes. Seconds.

I put my sundress – that blue print, flowey knee length Forever 21 thing – with tights and Mary Janes because of reasons. Then I went for a walk and let myself remember what happened yesterday.

Phaloxifer's not working for you anymore. I'm so sorry, Hazel.

I started to cry.

Just tell me, how long?

Stop crying, dammit.

Some days. Not long enough. I'm sorry.

Suddenly, I see myself at the last place I should be. I've gone here so many times and I don't really know why. I don't like the place much but I've always been a little illogical.

I seat there and talk to the stone in front of me.

Here lies Augustus Waters, loving son and friend.

I lie down on the grass, feeling tired.

Okay.

So, that's it. Next day, I'm at Memorial Hospital. It's like a prison, a prison of tubes and wires and painkillers that leave you asleep for thirteen hours a day.

I turn over weakly in the bed. I can see my mom sitting next to me, she was destroyed. Her hair was wild and ragged, her clothes were wrinkled and she had bags under her eyes. I can tell she was staring at me the whole time. I don't blame her. I know what's going on. I know what's going to happen.

"Hazel," she says.

"Hey, mom"

"I want you to know," she whispered, "that I will always be your mommy. Dead or alive. I love you baby." She sobbed, reaching around the tubes to hug me.

"I know. I love you very much" I rasped out, trying to summon my few breaths. What better use would there be?

Dad walked over from the corner of the bed. Trying to get out words between his sobs.

"I love you, Hazel. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. I just wish I had cancer and not you."

"Stop..." I wheezed to my dad. He cried harder at that. I repeated the same message I had given mom to him.

Isaac also appeared and I had the chance to tell him that he was probably my best friend in the whole world.

"And you've PROBABLY changed my life forever... God dammit, Hazel" Isaac started sobbing. "That's 100% not cool"

After that day, all went wrong. It was only a matter of time.

Until that was no time left. For ten killing (literally) minutes, I watched as the doctors unhooked the various wires and tubes from me, peeling of the tape that help them in place as painlessly as possible. Soon, I was free, staring Death in the face as I felt the oxygen running out, my world starting to go dark. Then I noticed something: death had a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

"Hazel Grace." said that voice I always dreamed with.

"Augustus." I whispered. I heard my mother murmur to my father about what I'd just said.

"I'm sorry you're dying." the handsome boy said.

"So am I." I sighed.

"Coming?" he asked, reaching out a hand. "You look lovely, by the way."

So I smiled, leaning back into my pillow, eyes slowly closing. "Okay," I whispered. "Okay."

And the grenade exploded.