I suck at writing...Dx

I look up restlessly at the midnight sky, the breeze caressing my porcelain skin. It was on this night 1 year ago that my closest friend, Alice Porter, vanished into thin air-literally. I can remember calling out her name in attempt to get her to face me, but it was as if she was in a trance, a void that she could not escape from. And then her skin began to go transparent, ghostly, as she faded into the air. She seemed strangely unmoved by this. I remember the last thing I saw was her chestnut hair flowing with the wind.
She was one with the world now. She would never return. And I would have to accept that. But I couldn’t.

My name is Ivy, last name unknown. Well, it’s not unknown, but I’d prefer to be known by my first name, not by my last. My last name reminds me of my family too much, who are people I would much rather forget about. I am fifteen years young and was born in the month of October. I am afraid of many things, such as cluttered noise, small spaces, numbers and other people named Alice. I do not go to school; school is for those who wish to be taught about things, and I do not wish to learn from other people. I wish to learn from myself, my mistakes, my thoughts and my actions. I like music and art, which are things that I can call my escape. I have two friends-Alice and Eliora. Alice is gone. Eliora is not.
There are a few things I know about this world. One is that paranormal things exist-but just not in the way in which we are taught. Another is that, as a wise woman once said, “The human race is exceedingly flawed”. And they are. I call humans “they” as I am not one of them. At least, not entirely.

I am on a mission. My head was telling me no, but my heart told a different story. I am looking for Alice. Eliora is by my side, our feet mirroring each other as we saunter down the rugged sidewalk. Our pacing is making rhythms that circle through my ears. The sky is a midnight cloak blanketing the city. We come to a building made of glass, and observe our reflections that this glass creates for us. I pray that no-one is watching us in secret, as I extended my palm towards my reflection, and Eliora out to hers. As my fingers graze the glass, it turns from solid to liquid and melts away. I nod my head at Eliora and we step through the barrier and into the light.
Alice was in amongst this mischief that matter has created for us, and I was going to rescue her whether the world liked it or not. I was fed up with the continuous bullshit that had been laid in my wake.