It has been roughly three months since Augustus's passing and I've begun to grow weaker and weaker ever since. After reading the writings Augustus had left in the mail to Peter Van Houten, I'm finally alright with falling to oblivion and leave all of this shit behind.

No longer will my mom need a daughter who's useless. My dad will no longer have a daughter to cry about because of every false alarm. I'll leave them all with closure as I've learned of everything and done all I've ever wanted. There's no more reason for me to stay.

Except for one problem. I can't die. No matter how hard I accept the fact, my crap lungs still struggle for the oxygen it can hardly handle, even as I lay here counting the ceiling tiles of the same Children's Hospital after the billionth time of my lungs filling up with the amber liquid. How many times will I have to feel the pain of a sharp stab and awkward heat in my throat as a cool, damp, loaded feeling enters my lungs? The feelings common, but I can't get over it.

Perhaps I'll have to allow it to fill up and accept it. Not tell anyone to help until it's too late. But I honestly can't. It's like some computer or something in my head calls out to me to scream for help. As if it wants me to survive even though I don't have a chance at that at all. My lungs are just constant torment and reminder that Augustus couldn't live while I had.

But maybe it was best. He already suffered through the death of one girlfriend, could he last through a second? Would he mourn? Would he read An Imperial Affliction over and over, thinking of me as he read of Anna or would he toss the book to forget about me? Something tells me he wouldn't. He'd probably mail Peter an alternate email.

I probably shouldn't think of Augustus, as he's not going to return because I think of him. It'd probably bad for my health and cancer. Besides, what would happen if I died, as well.

Isaac would be left with no one but his mom. My mom, like she said, would no longer be a mother anymore. My dad would probably never forgive himself. I never realized just how much of a burden I was until now, which isn't a nice reminder.

I think they're the reasons my mind never wants me to die. That, plus it's also in charge of billions of other living cells. To be honest, I'm back where I began in the first place.

It may seem to everyone that I'm still here, but I'm not. All I do anymore is read over and over again and try to fit back into the puzzle. Hm. A metaphor. Augustus would of enjoyed that one.

But it actually really is hard to fit back in as if I'm an actual person because I'm not. I'm just a slab of meat being the host of the deadly cancer within my lungs. And for some odd reason, I'm okay with that.

I just know that if it weren't for this tumor, I probably wouldn't have nearly as much perseverance as I do now that Augustus Waters is gone. Now I know what he felt like, but I also understand a lot more.

People die everyday. If you know them, you're expected to move on eventually as if you did not. But that's not the case. You can't just forget someone once you really know them - got to know what they wished to achieve but never would.

But that's when it hit me. Augustus wanted to make a major difference in the world but he never got to because he couldn't. But maybe he had.

Sure, I'm nobody, but nobody can be somebody, right?

So that's when I began to think. I was going to tell something - a story. My story. Augustus's story. Our story. But how was I going to write it? I'd ask for my computer. And so I began to type the story I'm telling you now. The story of two cancer victims who fought and lost, but still found closure. Who tried their best to make it through and finally found the other puzzle piece in which they belonged to in the puzzle we call Earth, maybe even Life. And somehow they managed to make each other feel better about their own sort of nubs.

And above all, managed to finish a story of their own.

Okay?

Oka