Snowfall

Writing is what gives me life, I let my mind wander and off I go to far off lands - or rather down the road where someone has been murdered. I find inspiration in the strangest places, but always love when it strikes, even if it's nothing to do with my current work-in-progress. And that's where Short Stories come in. I write down ideas and when they turn into short stories I share them with you, so as a treat here's the first one. Snowfall.

Snowfall

Tom pulled open the back door with his unsteady hand and jumped out of his skin as it creaked. He shook as freezing morning air blew into the conservatory chilling his tear-stained cheeks. He looked up towards his shed spotting Andy’s swing set with a layer of snow covering the black seats and snow crunched under his boot as he stepped outside. His chin quivered and tears blurred his vision. His heart hammered the inside of his chest, he gulped the cold air trying to ease the pain. 

Turning away from the swing set Tom made his way across the snow-covered garden to his shed, the snow crunching loudly in his ears with each step. He ignored the morning bird’s chirpy song. He didn’t notice the sun coming up over the distant hills, colouring the sky in pink and orange. He just wanted to be in his shed, sitting in his favourite chair in the dark. Tears spilled onto his cheeks and he wiped them away with his hand. He frowned and looked down. Dark red blood covered his hand, there was so much it dripped from his fingers onto the snow below. He stared. Nausea overcame him and he doubled over clutching his stomach. He gasped for breath. 

Stumbling forward he reached for the door to his shed and yanked it open. It bounced against the brown wooden fence behind it and came hurtling towards his face. He quickly raised his hand to stop it, leaving a bloody handprint on the wooden door. He stepped into his shed, pulling the door closed behind him, and was engulfed in darkness. The morning sun had yet to rise enough to shine in through the gaps in the wood. Inside his shed he didn’t need light to know where anything was and he moved further into the shed to reach for his chair. His shaking hand landed on the ice-cold metal frame and he pulled it forward, resting the chair in front of him. He turned to sit, and as he bent down his knees buckled and he landed heavily in the chair. 

Tom rested his elbows on his knees, put his hands on his ears and began rocking. He closed his eyes and saw Andy. Saw his little boy covered in blood. Tom’s eyes flew open as he tried to banish the sight. His tears dripped onto the wooden floor by his feet. In the dark, with his eyes open, he could still see Andy laying on the floor in front of him. 

“No.” he whispered as he continued to rock back and forth. 

He remembered saying goodnight to Andy last night, just before leaving for work. He’d been smiling and laughing at Tom’s attempt to do the Floss. Andy had demonstrated the move time and again but Tom could never quite manage to get it right. When his hips went left so did his arms, and before he knew it he was just wiggling about instead of Flossing. Andy was brilliant at it, swaying his hips left and right and his arms the opposite way. He grinned wildly as he Flossed, putting his dad to shame. He was fine. He’d gone to bed happily. But now… 

Sorrow overcame Tom and he let out a guttural scream. Sobs erupted from his chest in bursts and his tears flowed, falling onto the floor and trickling down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to. 

The door to his shed creaked open letting in the morning light, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t. 

“Sir?” 

Tom looked up, but his tears still flowed down his cheeks. A short uniformed police woman stood in front of him. She tentatively stepped into the shed and reached out her hand. 

“Sir, are you okay?” she said. 

He moved his hands from his ears and held them out for her to see. She glanced down at his hands and her eyes widened. “Um, okay, Sir, would you like to come with me?” She inched closer and leaned down to touch his elbow. He flinched. 

“Sir, I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to come with me.” she said. 

She pulled on his elbow and he looked at her. He allowed her to help him out of his chair and following her guidance he stepped out onto the snow again. Looking back down the garden he saw a trail of bloody footprints leading from the conservatory door to his shed. Bloodspots surrounded the prints and covered the snow in between. 

“We have an ambulance waiting outside sir.” The police-woman said. 

She led him away from the line of bloody footprints and along the path at the side of the house. Tom remembered laying the paving slabs, now hidden under a layer of snow, himself. It was a heck of a job and had taken him weeks to finish but Sally had been pleased with the result. She’d come outside just as he was finishing, bringing a cold beer from the fridge with her. She grinned at his handy work and even though it had taken longer than he thought it would she told him she was proud of him. She handed him the beer and kissed him on the cheek, telling him dinner would be ready soon, then she went back into the house. If only she could bring him a cold beer now. 

The police-woman walked with him alongside the house and pushed on the iron gate ahead of him, allowing them access to the front. An ambulance was stopped in front of his house, parked right by the pavement just a few steps away. Had he heard the sirens? The back doors were open and a gurney stood on the pavement next to the open doors. A tall man emerged from behind the ambulance, carrying what looked like a blanket, and looked straight at Tom. The police-woman led Tom to the gurney and told him to sit. 

He sat on the gurney and the tall man unfolded the blanket and draped it over his shoulders. The blanket rocked as his shoulders shook, he hadn’t even noticed he was shivering. He clenched and unclenched his fists again and again. 

“Mr Richardson?” 

Tom jumped. A black-haired woman walked in front of him and offered her ID badge. 

“Mr Richardson, I’m Detective Inspector Samson. Is this your home?” she asked.