Age Thirteen.
It have been a while since I saw Alice Anderson. She was beautiful as ever as she walked down the streets of our little town. Rumors fly, that her mother took her abroad to cure her hand. I smiled as I watched her happily walk down. People still stared at her, but it was a stare of admiration.
Her skin glowed as she smiled at the people who passed her by, her almost black eyes twinkled. She flashed her set of white teeth as she smiled at them. I have noticed her to be the type who would always smile instead of pouting or making a duck lips.
I hoped her to notice me as she joined her friends at the food court.