The Fault In Ourselves//The Fault in Our Stars Afterwards

Chapter One

When I first wake up the sun blinds me. I shield my eyes with my hands, my fingers getting entangled in my cannula in the process.
Like every morning, I wake up feeling like everything is okay, that Gus is still alive, and that I don't have cancer, and that I'm not dying. But then the full force of it hits me. Gus is dead, and I do have cancer, and I am dying. There is nothing I can do about it.

Yesterday I got a PET scan. No new tumors. As usual. But every time I feel like that I will be the next one to get checked out, then taken away just like Gus, and that it would light up like a Christmas tree. But it never does, and I don't know if I should be thankful or not. I want to die. I really do, I never can bring myself to do it. Once I almost succeeded. Before I went to bed I took out my cannula and didn't connect myself to the BiPAP machine and I was just about to fall asleep when my mom walked in and hooked it back up. I was surprised when she didn't say anything. Although I knew why she didn't. She knew my life sucked. I knew it too.

I place my foot onto my soft wool rugs and walk up to my computer. It has sort of become a habit of checking my laptop in the morning. Almost like I'm expecting and email. I usually never get any. But today was different. Today I got an email from Van Houten.

Dear Hazel,
I am very very sorry for your loss, as I have said many times before. You are probably wondering why you are still reading this and why you opened this email, well I shall tell you why, I have kept a copy of Augustus's eulogy. And I have to admit, it was quite amazing. I would like to know if I could have permission to turn this eulogy into a poem. But of course it will not use his, or your names in it.
Yours Truly,
Peter Van Houten
P.S I may use a few verses from your eulogy. Augustus gave that to me also.

After I was done reading this the first thing that came to mind was, NO! I will never share our story. But then again, no one will know who we are. I ponder this thought for a while before I come to a conclusion. I will let Van Houten use his eulogy as a poem. Finally I reply:

Dear Mr. Van Houten,
I will let you use our eulogies as a poem. However you will not give away our identities. I will NOT share our story to the world as our stories should die with us.
Sincerely,
Hazel Grace Lancaster

I tap the send button and think about what the poem will be like.

I have classes today for the first time since Gus died. I really don't want to go, but what choice do I have?

I spend the rest of the day thinking of the poem.

OMG guys first chapter!!! yay!!!! I'm so happy I really liked writing this and I really want to continue it!!!!