The Ghost Riders by Harriet Allen

It was just another plain summers morning to Kestrel as, once again, she woke up to twittering baby birds that were nested outside her bedroom window. She groaned and pulled a pillow over her head in a desperate attempt to block out the noise.

"Oh, I wish they'd shut up," she thought "five mornings in a row they've woken me up!" After giving up on trying to go back to sleep, Kestrel sleepily got out of bed and swayed. She looked up at her clock that was hung on her wall. It was quarter to six. Kestrel rubbed her eyes and slowly got dressed. She put on her denim shorts and an old tee shirt and her trainers. Now fully awake she walked along the corridor of her family’s bungalow, trying not to wake her family and crept through the door. Out side was fresh and cool and crisp. Kestrel looked around and smiled. This was the only part of the day that she got peace and wasn’t bored. During the day her brothers would be awake and were at that boisterous age and her parents were too busy with redecorating the bungalow to take her anywhere or to show her around. Kestrel was a city girl and her parents had taken up this job that was in the countryside, she had to leave her friends and come to live the country life for a few months. To Kestrel it would be the worst few months ever and now that she was here, it was even worse. She had nothing to do and all that was nearby were fields upon fields. But Kestrel had found something during her first morning here. Some trees that had enough branches to climb up to the top where she could watch the sun rise and a herd of wild horses roam the fields beyond theirs. She climbed the nearest tree and sat on the top branch as the burgundy sky changed to a deep red and then to orange and then to yellow and on to gold, and the herds of horses grazed in the field below. When the sun had risen Kestrel climbed down and ran back ‘home’ with a sudden excitement brewing up inside if her. Today her father had said he would take her to see her friends and have a day of fun. But as she came up to the bungalow her father was inside in his old clothes painting. She stared through the window with confusion and then went in.

“Dad? Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked as her dad slapped paint onto the wall.

“Why Kestrel, I am dressed,” he smiled but then his smile faded as he remembered, “oh honey, I’m so sorry. I’ve got too much work to do today.” Kestrel stared back in disbelief.

“Dad, you promised! I’ve been waiting for this for days!” cried kestrel.

“I know hun, maybe another day, ok?”

“How could you!” yelled Kestrel and she raced out of the house and back through the field to her tree.

It wasn’t until dark when Kestrel started thinking of going home. She was still at the top of the tree, watching the stars twinkle back at her innocently. Suddenly, out of the silence, she heard the thunder of distant hoof beats coming towards her. She looked at the horses below, they weren’t moving. The thundering noise came closer and closer but still Kestrel could see nothing. But, as if out of thin air, a herd of black stallions with hooded riders were heading for her. The stallions’ and riders’ eyes were all a blazing red and the stallion’s snorted smoke as they galloped on.

“I’ll be safe in the tree! I’ll be safe in the tree!” thought Kestrel as she shook with fear. As they came closer, coldness swept towards Kestrel and then became an icy cold as they halted in front of the tree where Kestrel was hidden. The hooded figure at the front raised a bony finger and pointed towards Kestrel. It was if two strong hands grabbed Kestrel and raised her off the tree and to the ground. She tried to scream but it was like her voice had been taken from her throat. As she touched the ground. She crumpled with fear in front of the leader. Finally Kestrel pulled herself up.

“Who are you?” she choked trying not to look into the blazing eyes of the horse and rider. After a moment the hooded figure said in a crackled voice,

“We are the Devil Ghost Riders” Although she was rooted to the spot with terror, she began to walk towards one bony finger that was beckoning her. She was screaming no! In her head but her body was being controlled by the Devil Ghost Riders. The screaming and fighting in her head began to weaken and weaken as she reached out a hand to touch the black stallion. The Devils laughter were full of evil as Kestrel felt herself falling in to a deep black hole surrounded by the laughter. But, suddenly, their laughter stopped and the darkness was being smothered by a silvery light. Kestrel stopped falling and was oblivious to the goings on outside her head. She felt warm and light as she was carried away from the darkness that had nearly possessed her.

“We are the Angel Ghost Riders,” said a soft, warm voice that seemed close by, “Hold onto this golden heart, it contains warmth of love that will guide you home.” The voice died away into the distance and Kestrel gripped the heart and knew nothing more.

“Looks like she fell out of the tree.”

“That’s a great height, she could have died.” Kestrel felt herself being lifted and distant voices talking all around her. She opened her eyes and saw blurry figures standing around her. She then heard a familiar voice.

“Kestrel! Honey, wake up,” it was her dad. She turned her head and smiled a weak smile. He was at her side holding her hand as she was lifted into an ambulance. But something was in her other hand. She lifted her hand and opened it. There, in the palm of her hand, was a small golden heart.   

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