Andy quivered, freshly falling shards
of icelanding on his exposed face, he placed the money in his hoodie pocket, then arranged the scarf so that it was covering his nose down to his shoulders.
The ground was blanketed in white, dead trees lined the streets, four month old christmas decorations swaying dauntingly in the light gusts of frigid wind, the young teenager sauntered right, trudging through the freezing snow.
Andy could make out street lights flickering in the distance, a thick myst distancing his sight.
Everything surrounding the boy gave away an eerie and sinister aura, like if he stopped twisting his head to check if anyone was following him he'd be jumped and killed, it had always been a superstition of his, the day he turned six was the day he developed that strange feeling.
Suddenly, something dark loomed between his legs, interrupting his thoughts completely, Andy revolved around grabbing the first thing in his pocket for quick protection.
"Fuck" he whispered under his breath, watching as a dark and belly red, sleek cat weaved between his ankles, paws deep in the snow. "Hello meow, you scared me"
Andy stared at the weapon he'd managed to grab, scissor blades were tightly clutched in his palm, this would've been able to protect him, he must've been using them for stitching, he then returned them to his pocket.
The feline looked up at him, eyes bright red and beady and a rather smug look on its features, its mouth was arched up in an almost distorted grin, that wasn't normal. It must've been injured or abused and in result had suffered grim disfigurement.
"What happened to you?" he commented, feeling an odd, alarming sensation from his neck to his collar bone. "Did you get in a fight? Or are you just adding to this creepy atmosphere?"
The cats eyes beamed at him again, parts of its fur dark red which Andy conjectured was stained blood, the cat then sluggishly turned its head in the direction he'd been walking, ahead of Andrew rested the large, decaying black house he'd ventured to so many times before. He trudged forward, turning his head back as a farewell to the cat, but it'd disappeared.
It was a relief to be able to set foot on something that wasn't acres of deep snow, Andy pulled the scarf from around his neck, watching abnormally as a clump of gathered ice collapsed from around his shoulders and onto the un-renovated house's splintering floors.
The residence was empty of any fittings, no furniture but instead, piles of empty and mostly shattered vodka bottles scattered in piles over the floor, cigarettes were also chucked here and there, and in the corner of the room, a bong.
Andy took a timid step forward, his heart jerked as the ground moaned beneath his footing, alerting anyone who would've been inside.
As he'd expected, a gruff looking man with tattered clothing and wide wary eyes appeared at the top of the staircase not too far from the boy, the man's face quirked up into a horrid grin, obviously recognizing him from past visits.
"Look who's back for more" the man regarded through his black teeth, striding down the stairs, slightly hunched over.
This man, Thomas, was one of Andy's dad's close friends, the boy thought that he was more of an acquaintance though, Thomas had also been a drug addict and Andy assumed that he was the reason his father was obsessed and violent now.
"Andrew, Andrew, Andrew" Thomas crooned, he held his arms out in a friendly greeting but the boy didn't acknowledge it.
"My names Andy" he corrected, placing his hand in his hoodie pocket, clasping the money. "My dad wants some more meth"
