Remembering Rachel

My best friend, Rachel, and I were playing dolls in the tree fort one sunny afternoon. I was Mother Barbie, and she was Baby Barbie. We were having a grand time, until Clarissa, Rachel’s four-year-old sister, interrupted us.
First her sticky fingers from the peanut butter and jam sandwiches we had had earlier appeared over the ledge of the tree house door. We didn’t see her then, so there was no stopping her. Her curly, light-haired head peeked out, and her merry, ocean blue eyes peered at us, planning her attack. She jumped from the ladder, and before we knew what had happened, snatched the Barbie doll out of my hand.
“Clarissa! You’re not supposed to be in here, remember!” I yelled.
Her merry eyes suddenly went downcast, and as she dropped the Barbie on the floor, they filled with tears, and without saying anything, she slowly climbed back down the ladder that led up to the top of the tree fort.
“So, where were we?” I asked, picking up the deserted Barbie.
Rachel didn’t answer. She was just staring at the sunny space that Clarissa had climbed down seconds before.
“That wasn’t nice, you know.” She said quietly. Rachel always was as nice as she could be to everyone, including her only sister. She was also very quiet, but on the occasion that she did talk, she always spoke her mind. Other than that, though, she was a great friend.
The bad thing was, Rachel’s time was limited. Rachel had cancer.

This story is an old unfinished one by Megsan. I felt the need to share.
Personal favourite line: other than that, though, she was a great friend.