I wake up gasping for breath several hours later, I know this because the window is dark, and shows me my pathetic reflection. Attempting to sit up but only being able to lean back on my elbows, I try to take deep breaths but they come out as quick, shallow, and painful bursts.
I still have my hair, because they decided it "wasn't worth it" to go through chemotherapy. "They" being all my doctors and even my parents. Fear curdles inside me, am I too far gone? My reflection shows by my swollen eyes and purple circles underneath that I'm very sick, and that I haven't gotten as much sleep as I should have. I try to fight sleep, I don't want to risk never waking up. My hair is overgrown, full of grease and sticks up at awkward angles. My lips are chapped and constantly crack open and bleed. Suddenly I quickly turn away and lay back down. If I die, I don't want to remember myself looking like this.
Suddenly my mother walks in, looking ten years older than I remember her before I had to come to the hospital. Her skin is pale and her hair is streaked with gray. She carefully sits down on a chair beside my bed and gently strokes my cheek with her thin fingers. She just stares at me, unable to say anything. A tear forms in the inner corner of her right eye and leaves a shiny trail as it travels down her cheek. She wipes it away briskly and shifts her gaze to all the tubes connected to my body. She is trying to stay strong, for my sake. She inhales a deep breath like she's going to say something, but stops, and I can see the breath is caught in her throat.
She slowly shakes her head, and in my chest I feel myself deflate as the last sliver of hope has left my body. She grabs me in her arms and sobs.
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The Fault in Our Stars: Epilouge
FanfictionA short story on what happens to Hazel one year after Gus' death