The Snowman
By: Matthew Donnellon
Tags: Creativity, Short Story, Life, Books, Fiction

It was one of those magical days.

The kids had a snow day and I decided to blow off work.

So, we spent the day outside. There were snowball fights and sledding after I spent approximately four hours shoveling.

The showcase of course was the Snowman.

We spent the afternoon on him. Three nearly perfect spheres of snow in three different sizes stacked on top of each other.

My wife brought out a baby carrot for the nose. I had no idea where to get coal so the kids dug in the yard to find some frozen gravel which became the eyes and mouth.

Then, all it took was some buttons, an old hat and scarf, and some well placed sticks.

The youngest had just seen Frosty the Snowman and was half convinced that he would come to life when we put the hat on.

She was disappointed when he didn’t.

And now we were in the house. The kids were playing some video game and I was dicking around on my phone like a modern Norman Rockwell painting.

There was even hot cocoa.

I went to let the dog in and happened to pass by the front window that overlooked the front yard.

A flash on movement caught my eye.

“Honey did you see that?”

“See what?”

“The snowman. I swear it’s head turned,”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No I swear.”

“Whatever you say.”

I stood there watching the snowman for 15 minutes, and I swear it was turning its head slightly to see if I was still watching him.

But soon it was time for bed, and I forgot about the weird feeling.

Until the next day I was walking out to work and as I opened my car door I was hit in the back with a snowball.

I spun around and the street was quiet. It was 5:00 am the street was dark.

I waited but still nothing.

Later that day, I picked the kids up from school and there was a puddle of water in the kitchen.

At first I thought the dog had an accident, but realized it was just…water.

“Where’d this come from?”

But the kids just shrugged.

“Maybe Muffin spilled her water again?” one of them said.

“From other room?”

Again they just shrugged. At that age that was about the extent of their communication skills.

So I cleaned it up.

I looked back out front and the snowman was still there, but I swore he was in a slightly different spot.

Again, it slipped to the back of my mind as I had other things to do.

But that night, I felt cold air on my face.

I woke up and I heard the bedroom door shut.

I sprang up and when my feet hit the floor they were wet. I was standing in another puddle.

I sprinted downstairs to look out the window.

But the snowman was there. Though, I could swear there was the slightest trail in the snow.

I tried to wake my wife up but she was having none of it.

“Honey,” I whispered.

“I swear to god you say something else about the snowman I’m leaving you.”

“Ugh fine.”

“You’re crazy.”

“It’s alive babe.”

“Whatever go to sleep.”

The next day, nothing happened, and I was slightly relieved because there was supposed to be a warm spell. So my snowman worries were over.

I went to bed.

And I awoke to the same cold air I felt the other night.

And something being pushed on my face.

My eyes popped open to see what the snowman trying to smother with his scarf.

I tried to fight him off, but soon it went dark.

I woke up to more cold air.

So, so cold.

I realized I was standing in my front yard but when I tried to walk back in the house I couldn’t move.

I was able to see and turn my head slightly.

But the horror came when I saw that I was no longer in my body.

I was made of snow. My arms were sticks, and my nose a carrot.

It got worse as I saw my family leaving the house in the morning. I could see my old body moving just fine.

What happened?

But my body turned and I saw the same wicked grin that was on the snowman’s face the night before.

Oh god.

He switched our bodies.

I tried to move but nothing.

I tried to scream, to say anything, but there was only silence.

I was stuck in a frozen body as the sun rose and I could already feel my body starting to melt.