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Jenny and I met when we were both very young. Too young yet to appreciate life and its constant miracles. As seven-year-olds we were very naive, as most seven-year-olds are. Tragedy struck our friendship when Jenny's mother was diagnosed with breast cancer I was nine years old, Jenny's elder by a year. By the time that Jenny had achieved twelve years and I was new to thirteen the breast cancer was a thing of the past and Jenny and I had frequent conversations discussing how grateful we both were that the cancer had occurred when we were too young to realize the seriousness of the disease. I clearly remember not understanding this "cancer" that my parents talked about. To me, it was as serious as a bad cold. Not fatal. Nothing to worry about.

* * *

Eight years of friendship passed, each one bringing Jenny and I closer. We took countless vacations together, and held an infinite amount of sleepovers. We went to separate schools, so visits were made as frequently as possible. Not only did our relationship grow, but my relationship with Jenny's family, and Jenny's relationship with my family became incredibly strong. We joked about being each other's "second families." I do not hesitate to say that I love Jenny's parents, Mary and Harry, with all of my heart.

Jenny and I blossomed into teenagers, and both of us took a strong interest in equestrian and running; and even though we both subconsciously know that if we were ever to race Jenny would beat me, things like that never produced stress between us.

I can't remember how they told me. I do, however, remember tears. My tears, their tears, theirs just much more concealed.

"Sit down Amanda, we have something to tell you," my mother said solemnly.

I had spent that particular day at Jenny's house, and, as always, I was excited and ready to tell my parents every detail of my visit, especially about my ride. My mount, America, had been particularly good that day, and Jenny and I had had a great time. It was a good day.

"Oh mom, I have stuff to tell you, too. I had the best ride on America today! She behaved really well, we cantered and she didn't even buck at all! And guess what, I jumped her 2'9" today! I am so proud of her!" I began. My mother sat at the table with a forced smile on her face listening to my mindless babble. My father leaned against the counter with an emotionless expression. It was the last few minutes of my life that I will live without a burden of sorrow on my heart.

I finished the report of my visit to

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