The first few days after Augustus died, I woke up quite happy, for a cancer girl anyway. The news of Augustus's death hadn't sunk in yet and I would wake up thinking he was still around and that I would be able to spend the day with him. It was only when I picked up my phone to text him, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, aware that there was something amiss nagging at the back of my mind but not knowing what, then I would realize he was dead and I would scream and cry helplessly. Now, when I wake, there's just this numb ache of loneliness and loss in my heart. No relief, only pain. I'm used to it, but that doesn't mean I stop feeling it. I don't think I ever will.

I suppress a sob, shaking my head, and get out of bed. The sky is dark today again even though it's already eight. After washing up, I pad to the dining table where a plate of toast lays.

"Morning," Mom greets me as she comes out from the kitchen, my father behind her.

"Morning."

She seems pleased that I replied her, that I did not ignore her greeting. We sit around the table, my parents smiling at me in a sort of creepy way; me with my head lowered as I butter a slice of toast.

"So," Dad says,"I'm going to Support Group today. You should come as well, Hazel."

For a moment I thought Dad was diagnosed with some illness then I remember he has replaced Patrick at Support Group. I actually haven't gone there for a long time and I do want to see how Dad is doing.

"Okay, I'll ask Isaac to come too," I tell him.

Before Dad and I leave the house, Mom shouts,"Be careful of the baby, Hazel!" Like I need reminding that there is a baby in my stomach and that I should take care of it. God dammit.

Soon, we are entering the building where Support Group is held-Dad, Isaac and me. We gather in the Literal Heart of Jesus with some other kids, a few whom I have seen before and other new ones replacing those that died. We do this little self-introduction thing and I say the exact same thing I said the first time I came. There's a dark-haired guy sitting on my right and he says when it's his turn,"My name is Jerome. I'm nineteen. And like, I'm dying. Yeah. I'll probably die soon. No point coming here but I'm here nonetheless because there's nothing else to do except waiting for my death."

"Coming to Support Group will help you, Jerome," Dad says, smiling at him. "It'll help you to be more optimistic, see the brighter things in life because here, we help each other."

Jerome frowns and nods but doesn't say anything and Dad moves on.

I glance over at Jerome. His head is lowered, his hands on his knees. He's handsome, but nothing like Augustus Waters. I know how he feels though- feeling like he is living a pointless life. It was the same for me until I met Augustus and he perked it up and then I went back to a pointless life again or worse when he died. But damn, that kid is more pessimistic than me although he seems nice.

When we've gone around the circle once with the introductions, Dad hands out small pieces of colored paper and a pen to everyone. I raise an eyebrow as he gives me a slip of paper in pastel pink, but he just smiles.

"Alright," Dad says once everyone has gotten paper and a pen. "Now, you'll write a short note of encouragement, or anything really, on the paper and I'll collect them when you're done. The notes will be given out randomly; pick one that isn't your color."

I open my pen cap. "Hey," I whisper to Isaac beside me. "You need help?" He is, after all, blind.

"No." His handwriting is untidy and lopsided but it is a pretty good attempt. He furrows his eyebrows in concentration as he prints words in a black world to the paper in blue. I laugh quietly at his face, then turn back to write on my own paper.

Hey. So like, yeah I know it sucks. I don't know how you feel, so I can't really say anything but I hope you'll stay strong.

I cringe because this is cheesy as hell and I know I get super annoyed when people say that to me but that's the only thing they can say because they can't do anything to help so "stay strong" is also the only advice I can give to the somebody who is about to receive this thing. (It's the same as asking people if they're okay when they are obviously not okay because there's nothing else to say.)

I hesitate for a moment before continuing to write.

By the way, finding someone whom you love a lot helps. Just hope that she/he does not get taken away from you.

When I'm done, I fold the paper into half four times and pass it to Dad, who smiles at me again, and watch, amused, as Isaac kind of scrunches up the paper before lifting it for Dad to collect.

Another two or ten minutes pass before everyone has finished. I pick a yellow one and give this murky green one to Isaac.

"Read it to me," he says.

"Okay," I say, unfolding it. There are a few lines of words scrawled untidily on it and I raise my eyebrows when I skim through it.

"Uh," I begin, not knowing how to start and just decide to say what the paper says. "It says 'meet me at carpark lot f43 later if you wanna fuck tonight. it's alright if you're a girl or guy. i don't mind. i'm a girl by the way.'" Disgusted, I cringe and toss it to his lap. What was up with this girl?

"No thanks," Isaac smirks. "I'm done with all these stuff."

"Good to know." I nod and start unfolding mine.

'i'm dying. i hope you're not. whatever.'

Now that i think about it, my note is probably the best one among all of them.

I turn to my right and realize Jerome is reading my note. Something fleets across his face as he reads but it's gone before I can register what it may be. He reaches the end of the note and rolls his eyes before scrunching the paper up, leaving me pretty mad, although I wasn't all that surprised.

Later, when Support Group is over, everyone starts filing out of the basement. Isaac and I wait for Dad as he stands in the doorway, smiling and waving to each person in turn. Only one or two acknowledge his gesture and Dad looks a bit disappointed.

"How did I do?" Dad asks, finally coming over.

"You were great, Mr Lancaster," Isaac tells him and I nod.

We walk to the car park and I find myself looking for lot f43, just out of curiosity. I spot it in the middle of the car park, and sure enough, there's this blondie standing there, waiting with her arms folded. She sat a few seats away from me in the Literal Heart of Jesus. Andrea, if I remember correctly.

"I see the girl that is obsessed with fucking people," I say to Isaac beside me.

"Oh?" Isaac stands a little straighter. "Is she hot?"

I look again, and she is still in the same position, tapping her foot and waiting for someone who isn't coming. At least, I don't think Isaac will go. He said he wouldn't but I don't know.

"She's quite pretty," I answer truthfully.

"Quite?"

"Yeah."

"Nah, I'm not interested," Isaac smiles. His mother arrives in a SUV, drawing up in front of us. She horns a couple of times. I open the passenger door for Isaac and he hops in.

"Dad," I begin hesitantly as we enter our own car. "Will it be okay if I visit Augustus's grave today? Now?"

Although I ask that almost every day, saying it still breaks me, more harshly with each passing day.

"Yeah, of course," he replies as he pulls out of the parking lot.

We travel along in silence until we stop at a red light and Dad says quietly,"I'm sorry."

"For?" I frown slightly.

"I'm sorry that Augustus died."

I remember him saying that just a couple days after Augustus died three months ago. Why was he saying it again, out of the blue?

"Yeah," I murmur, resting my chin on my hand.

"You're never going to get over him, aren't you?"

I don't take time to consider this because I'm sure of the answer.

"Never."

The light turns green and Dad steps on the gas and there's silence again.

We reach the cemetery ten minutes later, and Dad turns around and nods at me and I get out of the vehicle.

As I make my way to Augustus's grave, I look around and wonder when the day will come when there are too many dead people in this world and all the cemeteries are overloaded with graves and there's no space left for more dead people because like, everyone's dying. Maybe the hundred-years-old graves will just corrode and no one would even know because nobody cares about them anymore; nobody remembers or even knows them anymore. It's sad, but that's just what time does. People move on with time because they don't want to be left behind. Who does, though?

I finger Augustus's grave as I kneel in front of it. It's still very new, with hardly any chapped edges. But I know, soon, there will be many.

"Gus, remember the place where we first met?" I say softly. "Support Group. You were staring at me, and I think, when I stared right back, I had already fallen in love with you. And I couldn't push myself back up however hard I tried; couldn't convince myself that I shouldn't be loving you. And if I hadn't, I wouldn't be so hurt now. But I've never once regretted dating you, y'know? It wasn't a choice, but something beyond my control. I loved every second of it."

I realize I am crying while speaking quietly.

"I missed you so much at Support Group today," I whisper, choking on my words. "I promised I would go all the way up on a roller-coaster with you. I'm sorry I broke that promise and that you had to go alone. I'm sorry, Augustus."

I know he most probably can't hear me, but I just had to say these words.

"Oh, and thank you for visiting me last night," I smiled through my tears, recalling the few minutes we spent at the beach. It was real, I knew it was. "I love you so much."

I spend another few minutes there, kneeling quietly, then stand up. As I walk out, I think about how much time I have left before my ashes are being buried under the soil.