The lighthouse [ in progress ]

Chapter 1: Midnight Fire

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Characters:

                   Alice (16 years old)

            Young Alice (14 years old)

                      Grace Jackson

  
              Josh Miller (17 years old)

                 Lexi (16 years old)

              Aunt Jessy (47 years old)

              
                Mrs. Jackson; Grace's   
        grandmother (76 years old)

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   Alice felt the soft, gentle wind against her face and her strawberry red hair became fire among the dark night sky. The smell of caramel sand mixed with the salty ocean foam filled her loungs instead of oxygen. She has been walking barefoot along the silent beach coast of south California since the early sunset; or at least it seemed like that.

    Most times when teenagers leave their houses without their cellphone, without telling their parents the exact destination, arrival time and that they'll be back by 21.00 ,they'll probably just make it to the front door ...or the yard gate. Or if the are the type of "don't know, don't care" they'd sneak out of their bedroom window ,while hoping they won't return home with a broken arm. Like sometimes Alice did. For the record, once. But this time ,it was different. This time, Alice didn't care about what her mom would say for being out after 21.00, after midnight to be specific. She didn't care if she'd be grounded for a week or not be able to read the last chapter of "Worst Case Szenario" by Sophie Lavender. With the salted, fresh, hypnotic air and her bare feet sinking into the coarse sand, she was able to forget about the world .

    Alice suddenly stopped and looked at the sky. A few stars were set there and there, but although the sky was the deep, pale kind of blue, it was highlighted the strongest. The next thing she knew, she was lying on the ground with the moonlight making her feel like shining herself. When her hair turned again into fire and the wind mixed with salt and pure sand hit her in the face, she realized who she was and furiously stood up.
  
   "Your hair looks like fire"; that's what her best friend Grace used to say, when the wind made her red hair wave. Yeah-- used to say. Grace Jackson disappeared two years ago, at Alice's birthday. They planned on going shopping at the biggest mall in California and then chill out at hers, make pizza, build their "traditional" fort and cross out all the movies from their "must-watch" check list. But you'll be told that story another time. And I mean, not what was planned to happen.

   The wind hit her in the face a second time and it was now even stronger. It felt like a sign. Her hair didn't seem like fire full of embrace anymore; more like sharp, aggressive flames. She knew it was over. For good.