Reading a Young Girl

Here I sit on the L right next to a little girl playing with her Barbie doll. She is frail with blue beach ball eyes, sitting with her legs dangling below, kicking them left and right into the air. She is wearing bubblegum pink jelly shoes and a pink dress with cherry red flowers lining the bottom. Her skin is light and pasty. She looks like she has not been in the summer sun in ages. As she was playing pretend with her Barbie I noticed her right arm had a big black and blue mark with a Tasmanian devil band aid over it. It looked like my arm after I had blood drawn when I was in seventh grade, although I had a dull beige band aid. Her arms were like toothpicks and her face was small and sickly looking. The only color came from her rosy cheeks and blue eyes which contrasted nicely with one another. She had a big smile that took over her entire face. All her teeth shown, which wasn't many since she lost the two front ones, grinning ear to ear. This little girl looks like any other little girl in the world. The Barbie in one hand and pink everything; except for one thing. Her strawberry blond hair was shaved and looked to be growing back. Something that a young, playful, vibrant little girl should not have to face. The image of life and fighting for it was written in those crystal blue eyes. I will never forget her childlike behavior, making swimming movements with her Barbie, chewing green apple gum, smacking it between her teeth and gums; her energy was of a child dealing with a grown up sickness, cancer.