Alone in the house a boy looked out the window of my family's farmhouse in Northern Illinois. He saw the field where corn used to grow blanketed in snow and a single snowman standing out there. It was so peaceful. He backed away from the window. As he turned around he heard a loud clunk. The air conditioning had turned on. As he went down the stairs he heard groans from the wooden steps underneath him. He walked to the thermostat and examined it. It was set to -10 degrees. “That's weird” the boy said. He tried to adjust it but it was stuck. He walked over to his home phone to call the heating and air conditioning guy. \ The phone was ice cold. He dropped it. It shattered when it hit the ground. The air temperature continued to drop, he could see his breath. There were icicles forming on the ceiling. The boy decided to go back upstairs and grab his jacket. As he put it on he decided to look out the window again. He noticed that the snowman was gone, all that remained was red trail. The sight sent a shiver down his spine. The boy heard another clunk. He thought that the air had finally turned off. Snow began to come out of the vents, slow at first then picking up. The boy was shivering because it was so cold. He looked down at his hands and gasped. They were numb and starting to turn purple (a sign of frostbite). He quickly shoved them in his pockets. He ran downstairs. He neglect to notice the ice on the bottom stairs. He slipped on the bottom stair and hit his head. What followed was darkness. When he woke up he was covered in snow. He shook off the snow and looked around. Sitting in front of him was the snowman, but it wasn’t the one he had seen before. This one knives sticking out of the bottom snowball. It’s coal eyes were staring into his soul. The boy ran. Snow still coming out the vent now at an even faster rate. He stormed up the stairs and into his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it. The snow was now up to his knees. He trudged over to his window and threw open the curtains. Standing outside were lines of snowmen, all looking like the one he had seen downstairs. Blood dripping from their coal eyes, and knives sticking out of their bottoms. All of them just standing watching him. The boy was frozen with terror (pun intended). He slowly looked down and saw that the snow was up to his waist. His feet were numb, and his pants were cold and wet. The snow raising faster and faster had moved up to his torso. The boy couldn’t move. There was just too much snow. As it reached his shoulders he heard a knock on the door. As he turned his head everything turned white.