One last breath

I walk alone. A weight in my pocket getting heavier by the step. With the night settling down it causes an array of deep colours to envelop the surroundings. It's ironic really. In a place where sorrow replaces joy the most beautiful scenes are discovered.

I suppose it's almost a metaphor. That there is beauty in everything if you have the power to see it. If you have the power to stop in your tracks and just watch, then the true appearance of everything will be revealed. There is peace in death.

Stones upon stone, a lifetime of history, just lays in front of me. Most of it I'll never know. I should know it but there is only so much that can be known by a person before it is all forgotten again.

Augustus Waters sleeps in his feared oblivion under a willow tree. It's almost as if the tree is guarding Gus' precious life so that no souls can reach him in wherever he is now. It's weeping branches cascade a picture of serenity and wisdom unknown to a person who spares just one youthful glance.

I kneel down under the protective arm of the tree and press my forehead to the ground.

I don't speak, I just think about how Gus should be next to me and we should be drinking hot chocolate and anticipating Christmas in a cancer free world. But, as I've thought many times before, the world is not a wish granting factory.

If it was we'd all be living the high life drinking the stars while in a private jet exploring every crevice this world hides from us in an attempt to preserve and keep the beauty for itself.

Instead we have to explore the world of misery and hope that one day we might have a chance of peace.

I think about how everyone expects me to move on with my life and keep fighting. Fighting so I can see another day. Another gloomy and miserable day knowing that no one will survive.

"The truth is Gus, I don't see the point anymore. I'm never going to be free so why delay the day."

And in that moment I realise how easy it would be to give up. No more pain. No more fighting.

Hopefully Gus was right about there being something after life. Hopefully I'll be able to see him again and we can finally be together.

Lying down next to him I think about my parents. How are they going to move on? But i know they are strong enough. They are stronger than me. I know it.

Then Isaac. He's going to hate me so so much. He's going to think of me as weak but as my lungs wheeze I feel nothing but love towards him. I reach for my pocket to get my phone. I type a message on notes for everyone.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm too weak to fight. I'm sorry for being too weak to survive.

Mum, Dad, I love you both so much. You are both so strong. I'm sorry for doing this but living another day in my shell of a body has lost its enjoyment.

Isaac. I love you too. As a friend you idiot. Also, don't blow your chance on getting robot eyes by saying something beautifully romantic about Augustus Waters. You'll find true love. And please tell your children about Hazel and Gus and how their love story is one to remember. Anyway, Isaac, thank you.

I need to be with him again and the fight is too much now. I wanted to, it was my time.

The words were just a few to explain so much. But at this time I just wanted to say thank you.

I clicked my phone shut and placed it above my head. Not long now Gus, I think to myself as I remove my cannula. I say a silent goodbye to Phillip who has been my lifeline for years now.

Twiddling the tube in my fingers I start to struggle to breathe. I then pull a cigarette out of my pocket and a lighter. I place the cigarette between my lips already struggling to catch a breath and reach up to light it. Before I manage to, though, my lungs stop working and I gasp for air to no avail.

I close my eyes and just hope.

My sentence may have reached a full stop but it didn't finish how I wanted it to. Nothing ever works like that. Only one thing is for sure in life: you don't get a choice in how many casualties there are when your grenade finally blows up.