A/N: Hi peoples! I started writing this in my creative writing class, it's a light horror. It's not meant to terrify people, but it is meant to make people feel kind of freaked/creped, so with that in mind please tell me what you think.
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Once there was a girl. She was a very odd girl; she had a thing for owls. In fact, she had a small toy owl that looked almost alive. It had white feathers and fur and golden eyes that seemed to watch you where ever you went. Oh, don't get me wrong, it was very cute; there was just some thing about it-
But any way, the girl loved the owl very much. She would take him every where she went. She would pet him and hold him like he was a precious baby. She treated him like he was alive. She spoke to him daily, pausing every so often, as if waiting for a reply. She spent all of her time with her owl; she really did love him.
But because of this she lost the few friends that she used to have. She also gave up all of her old hobbies, her grades started slipping, and her eating and sleeping habits changed. Her parents became very worried. They didn't know what to do.
You see, before she got her owl she was an A student with a small group of friends. They weren't close, but they were people she could go to for help if she ever missed a day, which she rarely did. But since she'd found her owl that had changed and she was quickly failing all of her classes and lousing her friends. She was also not eating or sleeping.
Her parents tried to talk to her, but she wouldn't listen, saying that she had no time. Soon after the girl became sick and her parents became even more worried. They'd tried to talk sense into her, tried to help. But the girl refused, saying "I'm fine, now I must take care of white wind," the name she's given her owl for his feathers and fur.
But every day the girl grew weaker, taking on the appearance of a living corpse. Her skin was a sickly pail; her bones showing threw the skin. Her hair was like hey in texture and whiter then her owl's feathers as it slowly began to thin. And her eyes, now sunken slightly into her face, looked as though they had rolled into the back of her head.
And then one day with a blood curdling scream and a screech like a bird's her parents rushed into her room, breaking down the once locked door only to find a single white feather.