A/N: So, I hope you guys (whoever you guys may be) enjoy this. Please let me know what you think. Oh, and when I capitalize Ghost Horse (and another thing later on) I don't mean to be one of those really annoying writers that capitalize every word they think is important. It's kind of like a strange mutant breed or something. So, enjoy. :)


"Ghost Horse"

Tip! Tap! Tip! Tap! The sound of the hooves that clomped down on the soft soil sounded again, slowly growing softer, sound decreasing. The harsh winter wind whipped and whirled, and covered the sound of the hooves- that belonged to a dead horse.

"Goodbye Whiskey!" called out the young girl from her second story window. Whisky was her ghost horse- and few spirits knew. The young girl-her name was Melissa. Misty for short. She loved her horse, the way he whisked her away, (hence the name) and her hair flew in the wind.

Whiskey continued to trot, and snort, like any horse would, but he was different. He had a dry, emotionless personality, -no prizes to guess why- and his black and sleek shiny fur, blends perfectly into the night. There's one thing that appears at midnight. Those dark eyes that Misty sees turn a glowing red. Then, after running into the forest, he disappears completely.

Misty drew back her head from the window, yawned, and stretched, before climbing into her comfy bed, clad in her soft pajamas. She turned to her side, sighed, and fell asleep, dreaming of riding her special horse, Whiskey, through the entire two acres of her father's ranch.

Whiskey gave a final burst of energy, and seconds later he burst into deadly black shadows, that flew into different directions, done and gone for the night.

The following morning, there were tromps and footfalls coming from different directions, both quick and agile, awaiting the other set of feet, because it was morning, on a summer day, and Misty and Whiskey had some riding to do.

"Good morning Whiskey! I dreamt about you! Just like previous nights. You know, it's funny how you appear. It's like these shadows come out of no where and they form you! Plus, as soon as they start to form, you are already running! It's so cool! I love you Whiskey," the little girl crooned.

The horse gave a neigh, and bobbed his head. He was such a sweet horse, Misty just loved him. Misty grabbed her saddle, ready to jump some hurdles, before realizing something. She still had to brush him! She never did any riding until she brushed the horse first.

"Oh, I'm sorry Whiskey. I almost forgot! Come to the stable. I'll get the brushes, and you make yourself comfortable in the stalls. We're going to have to take a while before we go riding. Well don't just stand there, get moving! We have to get you cleaned up before we do anything else!" Misty knew the horse didn't understand most of what she was saying but it was nice that he went into the stables anyway.

Thirty minutes of precarious brushing, and slight impatience, the pair was ready to go, with Whiskey chomping at the bit, and Misty dressing in her riding gear. She swore that the horse whinnied, hurrying her. She simply laughed in response.

Misty hopped onto her horse, and he shook his head- almost like he was clearing a thought- and began jogging. Misty was smiling the whole time.

Hours and hours they rode. Half the time, Misty was talking to her horse. You see this is something she does everyday. For a young girl, she figured that since her parents didn't want to listen to her, she would talk to her horse.

"I'll see you tomorrow Whiskey," she called to him as she walked back into her house. The horse ran off, before disappearing into the night, only shadows.

"Misty there you are. I didn't even see you out on the ranch today. I don't think I saw anyone riding. Were you in the woods again?" Her mother asked, stirring ingredients like her mother does nightly. Misty smirked. Going into the woods was her cover up lie. An everyday lie that she made. At least it started when Whiskey first appeared in her dreams.

"Yes mother." The girl looked down, still smirking. Her secret could easily be given away by looking at her face.

Misty never looked at her family at night anymore, and they were none the wiser. Misty went upstairs, looked out the window, red eyes glowing. They matched those of the horse that would trot into the night, and burst into nothing as his eyes glowed their brightest. When his shadows ripped themselves apart, and his eyes performed their last little trick, her eyes matched it. That was when she knew it was safe to go to sleep. Her Ghost Horse had claimed her, and she would now forever be a Dead Girl.


A/N: Again, Ghost Horse and Dead Girl is meant to be capitalized, simply because it's kind of like their name/label. So, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review!