Epilogue: Part 1

After that, I realized that I was still dying and I wouldn't love anyone as much as I loved him then. I stared at my computer screen, reading it over and over, crying. I sat there for so long that my mom had to come to my room and turn my computer off for me to realize that the cancer still exists and so does everything else. I thought about how much I was going to miss Gus and how much I loved him and after a while, the thought of his parents and their grief hit me, too and when it did, it felt like I was being hit by an avalanche.

I went to bed that night without eating dinner. I was happy because I knew that Gus enjoyed what he could, he had said it in the letter. The reoccurring thoughts of 'Did I do enough? Was I in the way? Was I there too much?' also haunted me within the past day, even since I read the email I got from Lidewij and it's attachments. I printed them out, even, just to make sure I had them and they would never be deleted. I folded them up and put them inside my copy of An Imperial Affliction and kept them there, remembering how he was the last one to read it.

I woke up gasping for air in the middle of the night, making as much noise as I could to get my parents' attention and I remembered what happened when I was younger. All of a sudden, my mom and dad rushed into my bedroom and I saw my mom crying, calling 911 and getting my medical supplies ready for the ambulance. My dad ran to their room and got shoes for the both of them

"They're on their way, honey. It's okay, mama's here… I'm here…" She says through a waterfall of tears, her voice still somewhat calm and soothing, but I can tell what's happening. When I was younger, I always enjoyed hearing my mom talk because of how calming and soothing her voice had seemed to me, it always helped especially with my cancer. She hugged me, rocking me and her back and forth when I blacked out.

The next thing I remember was my mom sitting next to me in the ambulance, I had a tube down my throat helping me to breathe and I was now tethered to a computer. I looked over to find my mom looking down at the floor, both of her hands covering a small portion of her face around her mouth. I try to reach over and touch her, but I can't. I just don't have the energy to do so. When my eyes had flicked open and I looked at her, she didn't notice. This was the last time I ever saw my mother not cry. Then I was gone again.

I came out of a coma after we had gotten to the hospital and they had done a CT scan on my chest to see how the cancer was. As it looked and seemed, it had spread and I guess I knew. They say when you have cancer, you have to be positive or your body won't fight as hard as it could and maybe that's why this had happened. Over the past several days, I've felt this void that Gus left when he died and there wasn't anything that I could find that would be able to replace it. I guess I had become hopeless and it scares me, thinking that I'm dying sooner than anyone my age should, although sometimes I think that death would be a bit simpler for me than living this way day by day…

I had finally built up the energy to actually speak to my mother and once I said one word, I realized the waterfall would begin soon enough. "Hey, mom."
"Hi, honey! You woke up, that's wonderful!" She says, in her high cheery voice. "I'm sorry I'm crying, I just didn't think…" I knew what she was going to say from there on.

"Mom, don't. I know…" I say, looking around. "Is dad here?"

"He just went down to the café to get me a frappé and he wasn't 100% sure if you could eat anything, so he said he'd get you a biscuit or doughnut or something, anyway." She explains things too much, sometimes, but who am I to complain? She dries her eyes as my dad walks into my room.

"Hey, Hazel," He greets me, smiling, coming over to kiss my forehead and he rubs my head. "I got you a sausage biscuit from the cafeteria because I wasn't sure if you—"
"Dad… I know, mom told me." I say, smiling just a bit. "Thank you guys, so much, for being here for me… I love you, both." I say, trying to make sure that I say this to them, just in case I can't say anything else later. I look at them both, both of them standing next to my bed.

"It's okay, honey. We love you, too." My mom reassures me, her head pressed to my father's shoulder, wetting his shirt with her tears. "Hazel?" She asks and looks at me and things start to fade. My dad pressed the call-nurse button on the wall to call the nurse and the nurse comes in and starts pressing buttons. "It's okay, honey… You can let go, don't be afraid." My mom says, smiling her fake smile through her tears, dripping off her chin.

I could still hear them both and hear the monitor beeping it's off-tone, high-pitched beep, alerting the nurses that I'm dying. I can barely see my parents, but I know they're there.

"This is it, Michael, our little girl's going to die… We won't be the same parents anymore, nobody to take care of…" She says, through choking of air and tears, her breathing off. She's starting to hyperventilate and I notice my dad's voice close to my left ear.

"Let go, Hazel. It's alright. We love you, so much, Hazel. Remember that no matter what happens, mama and daddy love you. We always—"

Epilogue: Part 2

The death of Hazel was tragic, but inevitable. She died eight days after she received her email. Her parents split up shortly after, both of them fighting the pain of the death of their only child, not being able to look at each other in the same way. Her father kept their house, her mother not standing to be able to live there any longer. Her mother pursued becoming a Support Group therapist, someone who helps other parents who may be going through the same thing she did and teenagers who have cancer and are dealing with it firsthand. The last thing she heard was her father speaking to her and telling her that it was okay. This was the end of the story of Hazel Grace Lancaster and how she met her tragic end.