I'm wheeled into the hospital for my first chemo admission, shaking, with the hospital smelling strange. Just six weeks ago, I was about to start 7th grade—now, I'm beginning chemotherapy and have to stay in this uncomfortable hospital for a week. My mom tries to be strong, cheering me up with the thought of Chick-fil-A and pizza in the cafeteria. My mom pushes me into the elevators, and everything happens fast. At the clinic, I'm rushed through labs, rooms, and meet new faces. After an hour, we wait to meet my new Oncologist and her team. While waiting, a woman who looks like Uma Thurman passes by, does a double-take, and briefly talks to us. She returns with a tall girl who looks almost exactly like me. I stare at her as she gives me an awkward wave. "Hello! I'm Alice! Your first time?" and for whatever reason, that makes me laugh really hard. What a funny phrase... who knew that this girl standing in front of me would become my lifeline to sanity and help me survive the darkest chapter of my life. That night, as toxic red chemotherapy, affectionally known as "the red devil," is being pumped into my body, I get a large package. It's from Alice! A gift bag full of hilarious cancer humor jokes, a journal, and resources to help me while I'm on this journey. I sent a text over and thanked her for such a thoughtful gift. As I lay in bed that night, I turned to my Yaya and told her how nice that was of her. That's exactly who Alice was; she knew exactly what you needed to survive the hard days of chemo, and of life, in general. The following months we would grow very close, she'd come visit me often when she was able to. She had leukemia, and this was actually her second time having to go through this whole ordeal. It' s weird being a young child fighting a disease that you usually associate with adults, and it's hard when there's this significant gap between yourself and your "normal" friends. They're swooning over Justin Bieber, and you and your hospital friends are genuinely fighting for your lives together. Alice was so different. In all my years, I've never met anyone as kind, loving, and compassionate as she was. She was not just a good friend, but a good person. She was someone whom I could only dream of being just half as good as. In 2011, after a 3rd relapse, cancer took Alice from us. At the time, it felt as if I would never be able to heal from losing someone so important to me, but after some time had gone by, I realized that I could honor her memory and legacy by doing the things that meant so much to me in our friendship, for others. So I started to spend more time connecting with those in my life without distractions, started to take note of when my friends needed their own "emergency gift baskets" in different walks of life, and started to become a good person like she was.