## Chapter 1: The Phoenix of the Coastline

The St. Augustine Lighthouse functions as more than just a sentinel of the Floridian coastline, instead serving as a phoenix of stories and screams living discretely along the sun-kissed margins of St. Augustine. Much like a gothic cathedral, the edifice of the St. Augustine Lighthouse stands tall and imposing against the untamed azure sea and weather-beaten sandy beaches. Its ghastly white color is deceiving, for beneath the façade of benignity lies a cruel and tragic past.

In the heartland of this haunted region thrives the long-standing hearsay of two innocent souls. Sisters in life and death, their echoing laughter breach the sombre silence of the lighthouse’s winding staircase— persistently reminding visitors of the spectral life trapped in the mundane brick and mortar of the historic lighthouse. Their names were Eliza and Mary—radiant in life and eerie in death.

## Chapter 2: The Ripples of Tragedy

In the summer of 1871, a freakish accident occurred during the restoration of the lighthouse that sent shockwaves through the petite coastal community. The daughters of Hezekiah Pittee, the Superintendent of Lighthouse Construction, found themselves enthralled by a railcar that was used to transport supplies to the building site. The entire world was their playground, and the railcar became their chosen toy on that ill-starred day.

Engrossed in their playful antics, Eliza and Mary, accompanied by a few of their friends, decided to test the limits of their newfound amusement. With the azure sky above, the sandy earth beneath their feet, and the sheer radiance in the atmosphere, the railcar was a fun-filled vessel moving towards the sea. What began as innocent laughter ended rapidly; the car went off its track and plunged into the watery abyss. Their playful squeals of joy turned quickly to terrified cries for help.

## Chapter 3: An Ocean of Grief

The tragedy unfolded fiercely— like a dreadful play. While some children managed to break free from the iron beast, sealing their destiny towards life, the Pittee sisters weren’t so fortunate. Mary and Eliza died that day, drowned beneath the frigid waves. The happy tale of the lighthouse turned into a dark odyssey of nightmares overnight.

The Pittee family was engulfed in the far-reaching tempest of their incalculable loss: two precious jewels had slipped from their grasp into the catacomb of oblivion. Hezekiah, their father, was left bereft and desolate. His once lively workplace transformed into a ghostly shell— echoing the heart-rending laughter of his departed daughters, wrapped warm in the arms of sweet melancholy that followed their departure.

## Chapter 4: Unending Echoes

But death was merely another journey, and Mary and Eliza were far from gone. Visitors frequently encounter spectral manifestations of the two girls. Sometimes it’s the unnerving sensation of unseen hands playfully pulling at clothes, other times it’s the spectral giggles of the girls echoing down from the lofty apex of the tower.

On cloud-speckled moonlit nights, when the air hangs heavy with the salt-spray from the ocean, many have confirmed seeing the ethereal shapes of Mary and Eliza—caught forever in their childhood innocence, running and playing hide-and-seek around the lighthouse premises.

The fallen walls of their earthly confines now serve as the backdrop for their otherworldly frolics. The tragic accident of that sunny day immortalized the girls not merely in the hearts of those who remembered them but also in the spectral realm of the St. Augustine Lighthouse.

## Chapter 5: The Lonely Lighthouse

In its silent vigil, the St. Augustine Lighthouse continues to stand strong against the howling winds and the remorseless waves, its beacon slicing through the darkness, serving as a guide for the restless souls navigating the perilous ocean.

Eliza and Mary too, in their spectral forms, have turned into a different kind of beacon. They collectively play their eternal requiem, a metaphoric beacon of their tragic past, and possibly a guiding light for the numerous lost spirits drifting in the mortal realm.

In the end, the St. Augustine Lighthouse remains more than just an architectural wonder. It has evolved into a page from a Stephen King novel— bearing testament not only to the maritime heritage of St. Augustine but also making its mark as a stirring narrative of collective memory and an eerie shadow tale of mirthful spirits bound by the chains of unsought tragedy.