Leaving the warmth and safety of the porch light behind him, Sam set off into the night, wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck and pulling his woolly gloves over the cuffs of his coat as he went. He got to the iron gate and walking through it felt a chill go up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck all stood up and he winced as the wind whipped around him, engulfing his skinny frame. It was only 4 o’clock but it was getting dark already. The sky had been heavy all day with the threat of more snow. He turned right, and trudged gingerly through the snow towards his friend Tom’s house. 

 The dark was slowly closing in and he marched along. For as long as he could remember he had disliked the dark. It made his tummy flip flop. He didn’t like the stillness, the hostility of the air, the winds that whispered to him while the rest of the world was sleeping. Tonight wasn’t so bad. Perhaps it was the comforting crunch of the snow beneath his boots, or the gentle hooting of the owls. Perhaps it was that everyone’s front windowed sparkled with the light of a thousand fairies and he could smell Christmas in the air. There was something about tonight that felt familiar, like an old friend, and he wasn’t so afraid. 

 The clouds had broken now, and as he turned onto Selbourne Drive he gazed up at the ceiling of stars. The snow was drifting towards earth lazily, indifferent to the heavy falls they had been having, and he stuck out his tongue to catch a few flakes. He closed his eyes and took in a deep cold breath, suddenly feeling overcome with sadness. A tear slid down his rosy cheek. Why do I feel sad? he wondered to himself. Suddenly something brushed passed his leg and he jumped in fright. His heart pounding he darted his eyes around looking for the culprit. It was his cat, Toots. She was white with black patches so wasn’t easy to spot at first. She must have followed him from the house because she was inside, curled up beside the fire, her eyes flickering as though she was dreaming when he had left.
‘Toots don’t do that, you scared me.’ he gently scolded her, as he began walking again. He had better hurry or his mum would get worried. He was to phone her when he arrived. 

 Tom was his best friend, and although they saw each other every day at school, usually Sam was allowed to go to his house for tea on the weekends. Tom had phoned him this morning and asked if he had wanted to go tonight, and his Mum had let him. Tom’s house was very near Sam’s and he would normally cycle over. However Mum had said that because he was ten now, he was allowed walk too, only if he was very careful, went straight there and he called her when he got in. She had made him promise. Sam had his very new action man in his backpack and he couldn’t wait to show Tom. Sam had been saving up all his pocket money for it and he knew Tom would be dead jealous. 

 Just then, Sam spotted old Mrs Finsh walking towards him with her Scottie dog, who looked like he was struggling, his little feet sinking into the ground and swallowing them whole.
‘Hi!’ Sam yelled out, as he knew Mrs Finsh was almost completely deaf. However she didn’t acknowledge him at all. She simply walked straight past him, her nose in the air. Sam turned, his brow wrinkled in a confused frown. Why had she ignored him? Maybe she’s blind as well as deaf he thought. Shrugging his shoulders to himself, he continued on his way.  

 At the corner Sam stopped and looked both ways. An eerie feeling crept over him as he acknowledged the empty stillness of the streets. He didn’t expect many people to be out on a night like this, but the place was dead. As he was crossing he scanned the houses in both directions. Every object was shrouded in a downy blanket of fresh snow. Frozen shadows hung suspiciously between the bushes, ready to attack him at any moment. He was sure he could hear whispering. Not concentrating on where he was going Sam let out a yell as he slid painfully onto a patch of frozen ice, slamming his side up against a parked car.
‘OW!’
He picked himself up, rubbed his jeans down and massaged his hip. Idiot. He thought to himself, willing the tears that prickled not to fall. He stepped up onto the pavement and glanced round the bushes again. He was ready should anything spring from them. The snow was falling more heavily now and he had lost his bearings. Glancing round at the blinding white roads he found his way. Five more minutes and he would be at Tom’s. Toot’s was still by his side. She meowed softly. 

 He had now reached the path that lead down into Tom’s street. Two rows of street lights framed it giving the appearance of a tunnel, and beyond that the dark pressed eagerly in. A cold, clammy sweat broke out over Sam’s skin. He didn’t like this path. If he was on his bike he would have sped through it, but he couldn’t even run the snow was getting so deep. He glanced shiftily to his left. There was a shorter path, flooded by moonlight, which lead to Elder’s pond. Beyond that pond was Tom’s house. It was possibly a short cut although Sam’s Mum had always warned him to never take short cuts. He was told to always go the way he was shown. Am image flashed into Sam’s mind of the steaming cup of hot chocolate awaiting him at the other side of that pond ready to melt away the chills from the outdoors. Without more than a seconds thought, he darted towards the pond. Meandering his way through the thicket he slowed down and looked around. It all looked very familiar to him although he was sure he had never been down this particular path. He anxiously peered through the trees, trying to remember. There were dark shadows in there too. The whispering was getting louder. Shaking himself he picked up his speed again, cocooning himself in the assurances that he would soon be indoors and out of the dark. He reached the pond, and stopped short. 

  In the winter it was out of bounds, but Sam knew what it looked like as in the summer he often went there for picnics with his family.  Tonight however, the usually so familiar features seemed alien under the snow; warped out of reality. Beautiful and reassuring as the light of the moon danced flirtingly on the icy blue surface, Sam drew in a deep, oxygenated breath, making him feel more alive than he had ever been before. Summoning up all the energy he had inside him, he exhaled. He tilted his head and smiled. He could see Tom’s house now. He began to edge his way carefully around the frozen lake when something caught his eye. Dark figures were emerging from the path on the other side. All of them had their heads bowed and flowers in their hands. Curious, Sam moved a little closer. He recognized the faces of his Mum, his Dad, his little sister Jenny. There was his Nana and Papa and his Aunt and Uncle. Sam’s immediate reaction was to run quickly the other way as he was not supposed to be here when he saw Tom. Startlingly, Sam’s mind began to reel. His Mum was now placing his backpack on the ground. Sam heard the pistol crack of ice beneath his feet. His Nana was placing flowers on the ice. Sam was suddenly wrenched downwards. Tom was crying. The breath was being drawn out of him as the icy water caved in over his head. He felt his body go limp and he remembered. He remembered now why his Mum had warned him not to go this way in the winter. He realized why his journey tonight had seemed so familiar, and why he had been pulled in this direction. Suddenly the whispering stopped, and all that could be heard, was white noise.