Augustus Waters would've liked it if it had rained. Maybe the cold drops soaking his suit, rolling down the nape of his neck would have distracted him. Or maybe if the sun had shined, the blinding rays would have made him turn away from the gravestone. The sun didn't shine. Nor did it rain. The sky was just a plain grey colour.
They stood side by side. The taller boy had brown hair and was wearing a fine suit. The shorter one was wearing a suit as well, as well as a pair of sunglasses. Together they stood, staring intently at the gravestone in front of them. On it her name was written in large letters, carefully carved into the stone:
Hazel Grace Lancaster
He knew it would happen eventually. Her condition had gotten worse. She had been hospitalized one week, two days and seven hours before she died. He remembered their last conversation. He had called her at two. He asked her, playfully,
"You holding on?" She had laughed, but then she'd gone quiet.
"It hurts to breath" She'd said.
"I know" he'd answered.
"But I guess that's the thing about pain. It demands to be felt," He had smiled when she said that. He answered with "Okay?"
"Okay." And then she had hung up.
He knew it would happen. Yet, when her mother him called eleven o'clock that night, crying and saying that Hazel had passed away he was stunned. He sat down on the bed, and he regretted that he had let Isaac smash his trophies. He wanted something to break.
"Well," Isaac said, making Augustus turn to him. "This sucks." Augustus nodded, even though he was aware that Isaac could not see him. Augustus pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. He had cut it from the copy of "An imperial Affliction" that Hazel had loaned him.
"Hazel Grace, it's been an honour," He said. He bent down and placed the slip of paper in front of the gravestone. 'Pain demands to be felt' That's what it said. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He put one in his mouth, and for the first time ever he also pulled out a lighter, and lit it.