It was two months after I had started my third grade year in elemntry school. I loved it very much. I had found out my cousin, Shane who was six, was put into a hospital. I did not know why, i also didn't want to know why. A few days after that, my mom and dad told me Shane had cancer.

At first I didn't know what they meant, until they explained it to me. He had Leukimia, a type of cancer that effects your brain. I wanted to dis belive but the sorrow on their faces told me that is was true.

We went to visit him one day. He layed their pailer than a ghost. Me, and my family, and friends helped raise money for his medical needs. About two weeks after that I went to school. And my friend walked up to me and said, 'I am so sorry about Shane." I didnt realize what she had meant until I went home for lunch that day. My mom and dad sta me down and told me "Shnae didn't make it." I cried tears were falling down my red plump cheaks. I didn't understand why though. How come the life of a free spirited six year old had to be taken?
I went to get my hair cut off that day. To donate, to locks of love. I had 12 inches cut off. For Shane, a family member, a fighter, my cousin.