The fault in our Sombreros

Cancer stricken kids

        As his eyes continued to bore holes in my face, and his mouth continued to smile, I smiled back. His smile seemed to brighten even more, and I silently laughed to myself.

        "Hazel?" confused, I looked around the room, serching for the voice who had called my name.

        "Hazel, I asked you if you had any thing to say." Patrick looked my way, and I could feel the blush rise to my cheeks, for what seemed like the millionth time this morning.

        I shook my head, altering my eyes towards the ground. Patrick sighed, disapointed by my response.

        "I fear oblivion." the boy claimed, standing and sitting in a matter of seconds. He smiled, a toothy grin that made my heart leap. And dance. And die.

                I stood, not thinking of the consequeses. "Oblivion is inevidable..." I didn't pay attention to the rst of my speech, but I assume taht it was awesome because after I finished talking, every single cancer striken kid in that crowded, hot room shut up.

        Take that, world!

        After a few minutes of silence, in which I awkwardly shifted in my seat, I coughed aloud, trying to break the silence.

        The boy began to speak.

        "Yes. Okay, Hazel, amigo. I admit to your brilliance."

        I smiled. "Okay, amigo." He smiled as well. We were lost in a world of smiles and sunshine.

        Untill Patrick broke our beautiful silence.

        "Wow. That is so beautiful!" He sang, wiping fake tears from his eyes. I groaned, and the boy laughed. (And he blinked. Oh, good god. He bliked! Now I know that he can blink.. yay. Okay, yay. Now, let's continue with the story.)

        Soon, Patrick began to sing agin and I continued to be stared at by the boy who calls me his amigo. I smield at him, self consiously. For one moment, I forgot of all of my problems,  Of the fear that I lived with every day. The fear that I would die.

        And then I wondered. Why was the boy here? He looked healthy. He looked very, very healthy. Yet he was at a support group for kids with cancer. I don't think he has cancer.

        I don't think he likes me. I don't even think hes real.

        I am probably sleeping. (But I don't snore. I DON"T SNORE. If you ask my mom, she will lie. but I don't. She just wants people to think that I do.)

        I pinched myself. And I didn't wake up. And he is STILL staring at me, he is still smiling. And he is still blinking an abnormally low amount of times.

        Patrick began to sing again, a closing tribute to the dead. The names rung off of hi clear, unmelosius voice, and I couldn't help but wonder when my name would be on the list, on teh bottom. When no one was listeing, because time had lulled them to a sleep.

       I think that this guy was starting to affect my brain. That was the cheesiest thing I have ever said. 

       Hi!!! I've missed you guys! I'm so sorry for not updating in...a year? Omg life is too crammed! Please keep reading and starring and commenting and I will try to update. I'm just so lazy. I'm so sorry. 

*needs serious editing*

       Patrick continued to sing, his voice causing the heavens to go on lockdown. That guy is a worse singer than I am, which is saying something. I got kicked out of my shook choir, which is a no cut program. And I have cancer. 

       "Hazel Grace, what did you think of the song I just sang? What did it make you feel inside?" I looked at Patrick, and then back at the boy. His eyes continued to stare at me, and I stared right back. 

       "Mexican food is awesome. And even though it has some negatives, such as the whole bean-issue, you just have to learn to push those farts away and deal with it. What life gives you isn't always perfect, but God will make up for it."

       Then I ran out of Jesus's  heart, leaving mine behind. 

       (If you didn't get that, I left it with the mystery boy. Bye.)