SMPtober; Snow
massive thanks to @givethispromptatry for the prompt. i had absolutely no idea what to do for this one.
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Morning light filled the living area, basking Brendan in its light blue glow. He casually leaned to one side, hand holding his head, as he flipped through channels on the television. He yawned, tears naturally forming at the edge of his eyes. There was nothing to do. Nothing interesting on television, everyone else was sleeping, another blizzard ravaged outside. The man let out a quiet groan of annoyance. Channel after channel; Boring nonsense after boring nonsense.
Tired of being a channel-flipper, Brendan watched whatever program was on. His luck was not fortunate. A snooze-inducing episode of ‘How It’s Made’ played. He sighed as the monotone narrator detailed the intricate process of the making of horseradish. He drummed his fingers against the arm of the comfy chair, the action bringing a sense of relief to his buzzing mind.
Everything became a blur of colour as his eyes unfocused. His ears, sensitive to sound without his normal vision, cringed at the sound of static. Snapped back to reality, he realised the cause of the harsh noise. The blizzard must have knocked out the satellite.
He ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back in the chair. This was just his luck. With nothing better to do, Brendan went back to his daydreaming, eyes on the blaring television.
The television static looked like snow and as he looked closer, he swore he could make out a figure in the pixels. The person looked too small to be a man. Brendan blinked several times before he squinted at the boy. It had to be a trick his mind was playing on him. There’s no way it could be who he thought it was. He threw himself off of the seat and knelt in front of the television. It couldn’t be…
Inside the television, pounding of the screen from the inside, was a mini Ty. Though he was screaming at the top of his lungs, the static swallowed every word. Brendan couldn’t hear a single word. He tried to comprehend the scene in front of him. It must be a trick of his mind. The young boy was still in his room, sound asleep—he never left, right?
Brendan dashed to his friend’s room, leaving the figment behind, smacking against the glass and screaming for help. He threw open the door—Ty wasn’t there. His features fell when he didn’t see the boy anywhere. Where had he gone? Was that really him in the television? Questions raced around in his mind as he steadily paced back to the static box.
Only static was present on the screen. This crushed all hope he had in an instant. Where the hell was Ty? Brendan stared out the window. Dread infected his chest as he saw a line of small footsteps leading out into the dark forest. Snow fluttered across the glass, trying to protect him from the crude truth of what happened to his friend.
He just wanted to go home. He never wanted two of his friends to die. Brendan sobbed into his hand, trying to keep the rest of the cabin in blissful ignorance of another death.
