A chill swept through the room, and I knew it was back.

       I could see the outline of its vast purple shape as it hung in the misty 
air, lingering above me. Its eyes snapped open, which threw a jolt of shock 
through my body, though this had happened many times before.The tiny pupil swam 
in the large white of its eye. It scanned the area, searching over the ground, 
looking for my figure through the darkness of the night. His deep plum colored 
hands were outstretched, searching the moist ground. Its jagged jaw hung open, 
revealing the crimson lining of its mouth. The centers of its eyes dwindled in 
size as it failed to find a focal point as it searched for my outline amongst 
the shadows of midnight. 
       "Haaaaauuuunnnnttttteeeerrrrrr....", It groaned wearily. I crouched in 
the shadows, hoping, wishing, praying it wouldn't notice me - but I had been 
seen. I tried to move, but my limbs were frozen in fear. I instantly felt a rush 
of cold sweep through my body. I opened my mouth to call out, but no scream 
emerged. I felt the energy drain from me like water being squeezed from a 
sponge.
      I sat upright in my bed and wiped off the sweat from my forehead with the 
back of my hand. I looked out the window of the tall lighthouse where my 
makeshift bedroom was now located. I'd been having that dream for a couple of 
months, and it was always the same. The haunter wanted to hunt me down, drain me 
of my energy, and detach my spirit from my body and send it endlessly floating 
in the sands of lost time. Not where it was supposed to be, in the afterlife. 
That Haunter needed power, and for some reason, I seemed to be his only 
resource. But why? Surely Lt. Surge or Lance or anyone big and strong had more 
power than I did -- so why did it prey on me?
       I once inquired Professor Redwood about my dreams. He said that I was 
having a rare form of dream. This was the kind of dream that alerted you of 
something that was actually going on somewhere, or was going on in the future. 
And this kind of dream could also affect your physical state. So, if I died in 
my dreams ... well, it wouldn't be good.
       Too scared to go back to sleep, I got out of bed and walked over to the 
full length mirror that hung on the back of my door. My long, wavy, red hair 
cascaded down my shoulders like a waterfall. 
       Still wearing my blue Gyrados-print PJ's, I cautiously opened the door of 
the my room and began to descend the long, winding staircase. I reached the 
bottom and stepped outside. It was chilly outside, I wished I had changed into 
my clothes before coming down, But I walked down to the pebbled beach anyway. 
The mist swept up by the waves breaking on shore felt cool against my cheeks, 
and the distant call of seagulls brought a smile to my face. I folded my arms as 
I looked over the horizon, and sighed. I stared out at the ocean. I loved this 
little island -- but my dream had always been to become a famous water trainer. 
But I ended up coming here. I guess I should be thankful I ended up here. Some 
people ended up a lot are less fortunate. Like Tracey. 
       "Misty!" Someone called out. I turned to see who it was. 
       "Marina!" I shouted back. "Why are you up so early?" She jogged up to me, 
Her gray eyes shining. Marina works at the Marina - it's the big joke here on 
the island.  She's also one of the few people I know who actually looks good 
with blue hair.
       "I just felt like I needed to come out and get some exercise. You know, 
get rid of some of that 'fat'." She flashed a wide grin, and I laughed. We 
always tease Marina about how "fat" she is - she's skinny as a rail.
       "You do have a point." I smirked. "I just wanted to come out and catch 
the waves early." I said.
       "You're not having those dreams again, are you?" Marina said, a worried 
expression crossing her face. 
       "Oh, no." I said, lying through my teeth. I really didn't want to worry 
my friends about my dreams. It was probably nothing anyway. Marina's face fell.
       "I've known you since you've moved here, and I can tell when you're 
lying." She said. "You really should get someone to analyze all that stuff about 
the Haunter."
       "Well, I better get going." I said, desperately trying to change the 
subject. I waved and continued down to the island's only Pokemon center. I 
opened the door to the building and smiled. Nurse joy had fallen alseep at the 
counter, but Chansey was still busy. A couple of younger trainers were sleeping 
on the couches that lined the walls of the Pokemon center. I walked over to the 
phone booth in the corner and slipped a couple of coins into the slot, and 
dialed a number that had become very familiar now. The phone rang a couple 
times, and the answer machine picked up.
       "Hello, you've reached the home of Ash Ketchum, Pokemon Master. I'm sorry 
I'm not available right now, but please leave you name and number, and I'll get 
back to you as soon as I can." There was a beep, then silence. I couldn't bring 
myself to say anything, so I hung up.
       "Probably at some night club." I mumbled to myself softly. Suddenly, the 
phone rang again. I picked it up.
       "Hello?"
       "Hello, may I speak to the operator of the Marina? Or anyone who's 
awake?" Said a panicked young man's voice at the other end.
       "This is the lighthouse operator, no one else is available at the moment 
-- may I help you?" I asked. 
       "Please - something's gone wrong. Something's gone terribly wrong. And I 
need you help before it's too la-"
       Silence. 
	
	
	I don't own pokemon, I don't own Nintendo, blah blah blah. I do own the 
characters I made up. So don't sue me.