Winter Delight

Chapter One

I've had a couple chapters of Winter Delight up before but decided to re-write it.
Plus, I am currently really sick so my mind is elsewhere, sorry if this isn't up to standard :P 
So here goes :)

 Chapter One.

The warm golden light was slowly fading as the darkening clouds rolled over the setting sun. I stood for a while to watch as the shadows cast over the freshly clipped grass and the distant field of neighbouring wilted corn; a place I dared not go. I breathed in its familiar scent, remembering the summer nights when Dad and I would throw a ball to each other, back and forth… back and forth… while Mum and Amanda sat at the table on the veranda, playing numerous games of ‘go fish’. Their laughter could be heard miles away. Now that it was winter, those moments were only distant memories from my childhood; they were the best days, when Amanda’s smile lit up the whole house, when I made my parents proud, and when they were content.

I took a few steps deeper, closer to the sun, and soaked in the little warmth there was left. The grass was damp beneath my cold toes, urging me to go back inside. But I couldn’t. They were arguing again. Always arguing, it seemed.

The slight traces of cloud from earlier in the day had passed on, allowing numerous shades of wintery pinks and purples to graze the delicate sky, but now rested in large, threatening clumps of grey as fog slowly tickled my cold, trembling bare torso. My breath formed its own cloud in front of me as it condensed in the cold air, but I quickly lost its trace amongst the fog. The air was growing colder and it wasn’t long until I would have to go inside, though for now I was content with standing here, away from my parents, and away from everything that inhaled oxygen.

A light flickered to the left of me. Jack’s house was half a kilometre away, the only decent remaining house this far out of town. We lived on the back, gravel roads, sharing it with few hunters, people who looked as though they wanted to kill you, or both. Jack and I were separated by a scatter of trees and a resonant stream that stretched to God knows where. Seeing his house in the distance always gave me this sort-of hopeful feeling; a wash of assurance and confidence – as if everything was going to be okay. But things were never okay.

Jack lived with his ginger cat, Toby, in an old dark wooden two-storied home, nearly identical to the one I lived in, but better. I spent most of my weekends there. He was a family friend; although I haven’t seen my parents talk to him for years. Not since Amanda passed.

I heard incoherent voices behind me, the wind carrying the sound in the space between us. My parents must have moved to the veranda. It was time to go back, I sighed.

The light faded almost completely now and the only trace of my house I could see were the distant lights in the looming fog. I followed the damp stone on the grimy trail as I slowly made my way toward their silhouettes on the landing, passing our pool filled to the brim with murky rain water. My nerves bounced uncontrollably in the pit of my stomach as I came closer and my parents’ conversation lowered. From experience, I knew they were talking about me. I took a deep, steady breath in attempt to rid my nerves, but much to my distaste, it barely worked.

My Father was the first to speak, “What are you doing out here, kid?” his voice was loud, deep and raspy against the stillness that settled around us.

I shrugged at the foot of the small set of steps and traced the white, chipped wood with my eyes, remembering how clean and tame it used to be back when I was a child. I held onto the railing as I took a step on the slippery wood, careful not to lift my chin and meet my Father’s pitiful stare. He was just inches away from me, blocking my way onto the landing. I knew he was doing it on purpose, as if he got some kind of kick out of it. Maybe he loved the way I cowered away from his intimidating, tall figure. I was few inches away from being taller than he was when I stopped growing. As if noticing her husband’s behaviour, Mum took a few steps back to let me pass my Authoritarian Father.