The Fault in Our Stars II

The Fault in Our Stars II
By: Hazel Grace Lancaster (wattpad.com/hazelgrace929)

Started: August 1, 2013. (Yesterday)
Last edited: August 6, 2013. (Today, 11:02 AM EST)

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CHAPTER ONE

It's been one month and twenty-five days since Augustus has been relieved of the pressures of personhood, and I, on the other hand, have never felt it more today. I haven't talked to anyone more that one sentence at a time (nevertheless a few words), and conversations have been sparse, and hard to entertain.

Mom: Hazel, dinner.
Me: Okay. (I grimace every time I have to say the word).
Dad: So, how was your day?
Me: Okay. (It's probably still the most used word in the Hazel vernacular.)
Dad: How was school?

At this point, I just ignored him and we all went on with eating. As per usual, after Augustus had left, I had only eaten less than a quarter of my plate, and immediately felt sick. I ran to the toilet bowl, untangled the tubes attached to my oxygen, and retched.
"Hazel, honey, are you alright?" My parents lingered at the table, peeking into the washroom but staying in their chairs. They had become used to the new, always-throwing-up Hazel.
I tried to catch my breath for a while and then decided I couldn't, so I grabbed a piece of paper towel from the top of the toilet bowl, laid down on the floor, and wiped my mouth. I tossed the crumpled wad of paper into the trash bin, then spread my arms across the floor.
"Hazel?"
I looked down at my chest, watching it heave up and down. I decided that it was maybe harder to breathe in this position, so I sat up, still gasping for air.
When I finally found the strength to stand, I filled the spare cup we kept in the guest bathroom with water and gargled. My mouth tasted foul, and I felt like I was going to throw up again.
"I'm fine," I said, hobbling back into the living room into full view of my parents, and then turning into the hallway. "I'm going to bed."
My parents did not follow me into the room, but instead chatted quietly at the table.
"She's getting worse," my mother said.
My father, who was a crier, sniffled. "It's the cancer speaking."
"I--I just wish none of this ever happened. The cancer, Augustus..." She was quiet for a moment. "This."
I quietly closed the door to my room and sat on my bed. I reached for my throw pillow, which was on the ground, conveniently beside the bed from my last fit of Missing Augustus. I sobbed into the pillow, shielding my face from the world and/or Bluie, who was stocked up high on the shelf, precariously looking down on me. I got up and then turned the lock on the door, and then quickly unlocked it again. It wasn't my best idea.
I walked back up to my bed, collapsed onto it, and tried to muffle my sobbing.
"Oh, honey... listen quietly," my father said. My efforts to mute the sobbing had probably not worked.
After Gus's death, I had tried not to show emotion in front of my parents, demonstrating that I wanted to live my final years/months/days/seconds in this house, not because I liked being a homebody, but because I couldn't bear to break anyone the way Gus had accidentally broken me--my first, my last, and my only--by leaving me behind.
I quickly pulled the covers over my shoulders, trying to wipe my memory clean of him, though I was sure that was impossible. With that, I drifted into a light sleep.

* * *

I awoke in the middle of the night to the sensation of my mother stroking my head.
"Hi, Hazel," she said, smiling. "I just came in to check on you."
"I think I forgot to put on the BiPAP," I gasped, unsurprisingly breathless.
"I know. Sit up, honey. I was just about to put it on you." She quickly hooked me up to the BiPAP, and I laid down again. She pulled the covers over my shoulders. "I love you, Hazel, you know that?"
"I know."
"Your father also loves you very, very much."
"Uh-huh."
"I--I'll just let you sleep. Goodnight."
I nodded, then closed my eyes. I heard the door shut softly, and then I opened my eyes.
There was no way that I could sleep tonight, I thought.

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CHAPTER TWO

In spite of my efforts to sleep, I'd eventually drifted into unconsciousness. My eyelids fluttered open to the sound of my mother and father yelling at each other from their shared bedroom.
"MOM!" I screamed.
The whole house rattled, the tea light holder containing the potpourri that I had made from grinding Gus's tulips into flakes nearly fell over the edge of the sink.
I held on to the bed frame. "MOM! DAD!"
Suddenly, Dad burst through my door, shirtless, and breathing heavy, like he had ran here, even though he really couldn't have. (He took way too long.)
"The house is shaking," I said, trying to sound composed.
"I don't feel anything."
"It's stopped now.
He smiled. Okay honey, is that all? I imagined him saying, but he just stared out of the room.
Suddenly, Mom appeared. "Is everything okay?"
"She just thought the house was shaking."
"I felt that too."
"I may or may not have crashed into the wall on the way here."
He kissed me on the cheek, walked over to mom, then kissed her on the cheek too, passionately, as if nothing had happened between them, then walked out of my bedroom.
"Hi, honey," my mother said, smiling. Her hair was frazzled, like she had just woken up.
"Mom," I thought of how to word the question, "were you guys arguing?"
"What?"
"I heard you and dad arguing in your bedroom."
"I don't know what you heard, sweetheart, but we weren't arguing."
"What were you guys doing in there?"
"I don't know. Your father was in the bedroom, and I was in the kitchen."
"Oh. Sorry," I said, flustered.
"What for?"
"Never mind."
Mom smiled, then told me to get ready, because breakfast was about to be served. "What would you like to eat?"
I stared at the clock. 8:47. "I actually think it's too early to eat?" I tried.
"Hazel. Get up. It's not that early, and besides, you went to bed before 7:00 last night."
"Okay."
My mother walked out of the room, leaving me to get to my business.
I removed the snout of the BiPAP, placed the oxygen nubbins into my nose, then switched it on. I quickly brushed my teeth, than dragged myself out into the living room. I reached for the TV remote, than switched to a local news channel.
I mindlessly watched the female reporter drone on and on about this rare case that a middle-aged guy had suddenly developed a disease called synesthesia, when Mom walked into the room.
"Since you've been so busy Not Being Hazel lately, I think that we'll let you eat breakfast on the couch... this one time." She smiled sweetly.
"Thanks," I said, but didn't mention that I didn't feel like stomaching down Mom's Famous Scrambled Eggs at the moment.
Regardless, I had scarfed down a meager third of the plate (in comparative, it was almost twice as much as my usual recent portions) and had the strength to place the dish in the sink by myself.
"Thank you very much, Hazel," my mother had said when I met her in the kitchen. "So," she said, "I was thinking we could go shopping today, if you're up for it," she said, enthusiastically.
I pondered whether to go or not. I had not left the house since the Gus Situation, and I didn't plan to now, but my mother's sad smile could not be neglected upon. "Okay," I finally said, trying to sound excited.
"Get ready. We're leaving at 9:00."
"Okay," I smiled, making a beeline to my bedroom, the oxygen cart on my heels.

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CHAPTER THREE

We left at 10:00 instead, as my stomach didn't take the scrambled eggs so well. Mom had anticipated it, so she had withheld my Phalanxifor until after I had thrown up my insides.
I downed the pills, and Dad walked me to the car. Strangely, he had taken the day off.
My mother joined us about thirty seconds later, sliding into the driver's seat. Dad insisted I sit at the back with him, and opened the passenger side door so I could step out.
As soon as I got comfortable, Mom slipped the key into the ignition and we were off.

* * *

We arrived at Castleton in twenty minutes, since it was a weekday and past the morning rush hour.
We went through the food court entrance, one of our family's usual practices.
"What would you like to eat?" Dad asked, sizing up the place.
"I am not feeling very hungry at the moment, given what happened?"
"Right. You know, you're really strong, you know that?"
"I know."
"And you're our our beautiful baby girl, despite the whole cancer situation?"
"Uh-huh," I said, looking up at him. "Can we not talk about this now?"
"Sorry, honey. I was," he paused, "I was just... never mind." He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
"Dad."
"Sorry." My father bit his lip, like he was trying to hold back a sob. "This wasn't such a good idea," he mumbled. "I'll wait in the car."
"Honey!" Mom called after him. She turned towards me, and I shrugged.
"Sorry," I said, "I don't know what happened.
"Hazel," she said, looking at me. I lifted my nubbins and scratched the skin underneath. "We... we have something to tell you."
"What is it?"
"Your father and I will tell you later."
"You're not getting divorced, are you?"
"What? Hazel, where in the world did you get that idea?"
"This morning..."
"Hazel. I told you, nothing happened between us. It's just..." she whipped her head around, like she was making sure that no one was listening in. "Never mind. Hazel, I'm sorry, but you're making this more difficult than it needs to be." I stared at her, shocked. She immediately flashed a face that looked like she had regretted what she had said, but didn't apologize. "We're going home."

* * *

The whole car ride home, the three of us hadn't spoke a word to each other. When we arrived, my parents had both shot straight into the bedroom, without taking their shoes off or anything. I did the same.
What had I just done? Surely it wasn't my fault, my parents were just being over emotional...
Suddenly, I found my lungs searching for air, my brain trying to detach from consciousness.
I gasped loudly, my throat aching. Again. I collapsed onto the floor, my head hitting the ground, hard.
I continued gasping loudly, the room now spinning. "MOMMMM!" I yelled, breathless. Again. This time, even more breathless, "DADDDD!"
Suddenly, Mom and Dad burst into the room, my mom wearing nothing but a bra and my father, Calvin Klein boxers and one pant sleeve dangling on his leg, as of he were changing.
"I can't breathe," I gasped again, closing my eyes.
My mother quickly darted to the oxygen tank, examined it, then detached it to my breathing tube, and ran out of the room. Dad kneeled beside me until Mom returned, a silver oxygen tank in her arms. She kneeled over, trying to attach me to oxygen, when I felt myself slipping. Suddenly, it all went black.

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CHAPTER FOUR

I awoke facing the eggshell-white ceiling of a strange, unpersonalized room, my eyelids heavy. I figured it was the hospital.
Since Augustus died, I have been here exactly twice. The first time, I had my lungs drained of the amber cancer water, and the second, today--for whatever that had happened.
I rolled over in the bed, grabbing the nearest bucket and throwing up in it. I must have been retching for a long time, because the container was half full before a nurse had arrive. "Oh, Jesus. Are you alright?"
"I'm--" my stomach heaved, but nothing had come out. I let go of the container, rolling back onto my other side. "I'm fine," I said, weakly.
"Are you sure?"
"Um," I wondered if I really did feel fine, "yeah. I think I'm fine."
"Okay. Anyway, I'll be your nurse Brianna for today and tomorrow. Your parents agreed that we'd keep you in for an extra day just to make sure that you'd be fine."
"Oh. Thanks," I said, barely audible. I cleared my through. "Um, how long was I out?" I asked.
"Not too long," she said. "You slept through the night. It's around eight in the morning right now."
"Okay."
"Your parents are outside... would you like to see them?"
"Okay."
My Nurse Brianna walked out of the room, and a few minutes later, she came back with my parents.
"Hazel!" My mom said, running towards the bed.
"Hey," I croaked.
"Honey, do you feel alright?"
"I'm fine. At least I think I feel fine," I wheezed.
"Hazel, do you know what happened?" Dad asked.
"I don't know. I accidentally grabbed a used oxygen tank?"
"Umm, not exactly." He sniffled, than blinked rapidly a few times. "The doctor told us that your lungs are filling far more rapidly now, and we have to bring you to the hospital four times a month now instead of once."
"Oh," I said, barely disguising my hatred of the hospital.
"And you indeed had on a nearly empty oxygen tank," Mom added. "You now have to be on oxygen as much as possible. The nurse told us that it would be hard for you to take a few steps without oxygen, so..."
"Oh."
A beat passed, and Dad suddenly opened his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"No, I mean, for the other thing, at the shopping mall yesterday?"
"Um, that's okay?"
"No, I really am. I'm sorry I lashed out at you. It's just that your cancer effects us too, Hazel. I understand that we, as mere bystanders to your disease, may not be a victim to the physical effects of Your Cancer, but we feel it emotionally." He choked, tears starting to race down his cheeks.
"Maybe even more than you do, love," Mom said, stroking my face. "More than you'll ever know."
"Oh, Dad," I said, kissing him by his ears, his sideburns pricking my face.
He tried smiling, which made me smile, which made Mom smile.
Suddenly, I found myself in a fit of laughter, and then being reduced to tears.
"Sorry," I said. "The medication."
I sat up in the bed and wheezed.
"You okay?"
"I've been better," I admitted.
"Shall we leave you alone?" Mom asked.
"It's okay."
"Okay," she said, her hand on her stomach.
"Mom, are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah," she said.
Dad then bent over to kiss me on the top of my head, and then excused himself to go to the washroom. "Stay here, girls," he said, which made Mom giggle. Probably because he referred to her as a 'girl', even though she clearly was not.
"Mom?" I asked after Dad left. "Are you pregnant? Or, um, did you try to get pregnant?"
"Oh Hazel, of course I'm not pregnant," she said, lingering, as if she had something else to say but was holding back.
"Oh. Um, we're you and dad--"
"Oh, my God Hazel," she said, rubbing her temple.
"Sorry."
"Yeah, um, I'm going to get some air."
My mother left, closing the door with a soft thump.
I wondered what had gotten into her. After Gus had gone, they have been acting strange and softly arguing with each other in the bedroom, or at the kitchen table after I excused myself every night to throw up.
I felt queasy again, so I grabbed the still-full bucket and tried to vomit my insides. I heaved, but it was no use, I was empty of all my insides, literally.
I sat up and requested a nurse. My head hurt and I was shocked from my sudden outburst of stupidness and nonexistent courage that I had to ask my mother such silly questions.
Nurse Brianna came quickly, and I snapped out of my daze.
"Yes, Hazel?" She asked, her head poking out from behind the door.
"Can you get me some food?" I asked, not sure how I could make it sound more polite.
"Sure," she smiled. "A sandwich. Is that fine?
I nodded.
"Turkey or chicken?"
"Um, I don't exactly eat meat?"
"Oh. Vegan or vegetarian?"
"Just vegetarian, I guess?"
"Okay. So a BLT without the B?"
"That would be fine."
"I'll also add some E," she winked. "Be right back."
When she came back, she was holding a tray with a fork and a knife with a plate that contained a whole-wheat bread sandwich made with a stack of eggs, lettuce, and a thick slice of tomato.
I ate my breakfast, still completing scrambled eggs and their contemporary breakfastization.