"Oh, shut up, will you?" said the ghost up above him.
He screamed louder.
The ice cracked beneath his small, six year old figure. He looked to the shore of the lake, where his older sister, Starr, stood terrified, crying, begging desperately for anybody to help him. Nobody could. Not without putting him in even more danger, that is. All they could do was wait for the emergency services to arrive.
He looked up at the mean ghost that had placed him there, with its evil cape and its evil big pointy hairdo. He looked back to the shore. Tears blurred his eyes. It's so far away...
The ghost, as if it were psychic, looked down at him and grinned evilly. "And just where is your little hero, Danny Phantom now? Does he just not care that this poor little boy is about to be dropped into the icy depths of the lake?"
In reality, he wasn't all that far from shore. He was just far enough from it that nobody could reach him. Any move that they made on the ice would be fatal to him.
He saw people moving, clearing a path. Was he going to be saved? Had 9-1-1 arrived?
A boy ran out onto the lake. That wasn't 9-1-1...his eyes widened. Now they were both going to die!
To his surprise, the boy grabbed him, and, too fast to notice, he was flying! He thumped into his older sister, who gave a cry of surprise, but held on to him tight.
"Even better!" cried the ghost, and he heard a splash. He turned. There was a big hole in the ice. The boy who saved him was nowhere to be seen.
He looked up at Starr, whose eyes were as wide as saucers.
"Fenton..." she breathed.