Growing up, I was very unfamiliar with what cancer was and how it worked. I barely grasped what little information I received from television programs or what my parents told me. I have never had a family member pass away from cancer so it was never something that I felt was appropriate to worry about when I was younger. My 7th grade year (2007), I was brand new to a school that my family had just moved to. Making friends was slow and left me feeling very left out seeing as that everyone at the school seemed to already know each other. One day, in my Spanish class, I met two girls, Abby and Zoe. From the start we all seemed to get along very well and soon enough they became some of my closest friends at school. We spent our classes together joking around and spent our afternoon’s skyping or instant messaging into the early hours of the morning. One day I noticed that Zoe did not show up for our Spanish class. She ended up missing class for the entire week that week. Abby and I hadn’t heard anything from her which began to give us some concern. I don’t remember how long it had been since I had heard from or seen Zoe until one day our Spanish teacher came in to tell us some news she had just recently found out. Zoe had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia and would be away from school for some time. I remember thinking of the situation as if Zoe had the flu and would be back within a week or so. I had not yet experienced someone close to me get diagnosed with cancer so I had almost no idea of how to help Zoe. A few weeks went by and Zoe was able to get on instant messenger after school with Abby and me. Zoe had moved into an apartment near the Medical Center in Downtown Houston so she could be close to her doctors if she needed anything in an emergency. She had started taking online classes to help her not get behind in school as well. Zoe was perfectly normal besides the fact that she was quarantined to an apartment for a large majority of the day and usually getting checkups at the hospital when she wasn’t home. I so badly wanted to help her. However, I had no ability to help her. Zoe was being treated by some of the best doctors in the country and I was a 12 year old boy that just wanted his friend to get better. At 12, your thought of a loved one getting cancer isn’t “if they’ll get better” but “when they’ll get better”. Since I couldn’t physically help her, simply being there for her when she needed me was my only option of aid. Two years of after school chats would go by. Day after day from five o’clock until past midnight, Zoe and I would talk on instant message, text, or skype. Talking every day was simply our routine. I would get a message from Zoe’s mother if she wasn’t feeling well that day, or had gone in for an operation. Slowly but surely Zoe’s medical hiccups would integrate themselves into our routine. She would go into ICU and come out a few days later completely better. It was after two years of this routine that Zoe began to wear down. The question, in her eyes, turned from “when” to “if” she would get better. The most difficult day of my life was not the day Zoe passed away from an almost three year struggle with leukemia, but rather listening to my 14 year old best friend question whether or not she would survive the next operation she would have to undergo. Nothing in life prepares you to console a dying loved one, especially one that was not able to live her life as she wanted. As a 14 year old I was grossly unqualified to provide that comfort to anyone. However, I did what I could. I remained positive every day even when Zoe was far from it. Zoe passed away on September 12, 2009, four days after her 15th birthday. I received a text from her mother on the 8th of September informing me that she had gone into the ICU. Per routine I assumed that she would be out within the next couple of days. I thought I was unprepared to give her comfort during her difficult days but nothing prepared me for the day she passed away. I remember receiving the text from her mother notifying me of her passing and feeling emotionally destroyed. At first I didn’t do anything, I just sat on the floor for what seemed like forever. I went into a very damaging depression after I lost her. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. I remember, very distinctly, not being able to focus on anything after Zoe’s passing. I wouldn’t be able to talk to her ever again. I wouldn’t be able to see her beat leukemia and come back to school. She would always mean the world to me though. Leukemia could take her from the world but nothing could take away how much she meant to me. I began to find solace in this detail. I was never prepared to cope with the death of a loved one but I learned to cope as I slowly began to mature mentally at a rate that most teens shouldn’t ever have to experience. I found solace in little memories of her. I found comfort in looking at our past messages. I found consolation in the bracelet with her name that I’ve worn every day since she passed away. I'm shaving my head to raise money for childhood cancer research for kids like Zoe. Every dollar makes a difference for the thousands of infants, children, teens, and young adults fighting childhood cancers.