An Excerpt from “Before Your Eyes”

The wind whirled outside of the window, kicking up snow that swirled off into the night sky. It was the first substantial snowfall of the year, and Beau Coleman was entranced. He had firmly planted himself directly in front of the window that stretched up to the ceiling as soon as he had heard that it was snowing in town. Nose pressed to the glass, vision becoming blurred by the foggy condensation, Beau anxiously searched the sky for any sign of snow until the first flakes fell. He had been glued to his seat ever since, eyes wide in wonder.

His mom was finishing up washing the dishes from dinner when Beau had raced off to the window, squinting his eyes in hopes of spotting the first snowflake.

A fire crackled in the fireplace across the living room from Beau; the Christmas tree that had taken hours to decorate sat in the corner, lit up with twinkling lights while an acoustic version of a popular Christmas song played softly in the background, floating in from the kitchen. Leaning in the doorway, Beau’s mom watched her son fondly as the snow began to fall. Beau’s father was on his way home from working at his job in the city.

Beau had once went with his dad to the “Take Your Kids To Work Day,” which consisted of Beau sitting in his dad’s plush desk chair and swiveling back and forth through the office while his dad met with his clients. At the time, he didn’t realize what exactly his dad’s job was; all he knew was that he worked with rockstars and wore fancy suits.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as the snow began to pile up, a gentle dusting slowly transforming into a miniature blizzard.

“It’s snowing more, Mom!” Beau said excitedly to his mom as he heard her walk into the room.

“I can see that, honey!” She responded, sitting down next to him. She had never been one for cold weather, let alone snow. Beau’s dad, on the other hand, loved winter just as much as Beau did.

Just as Beau was about to ask when his dad was going to be home, his mind went blank. As he looked forward, he could no longer see the snow billowing in the backyard. Christmas music was no longer heard playing softly in the background. Everything faded away and instead he was looking out of the front windshield of his father’s car and onto the winding road that was only a couple of miles from their house. Beau looked down at his hands, hands that didn’t belong to him, but rather to his father, and felt panic rising in his chest as he frantically turned the steering wheel. The tires squealed and groaned against the slick pavement; suddenly, a tree loomed in front of the car, getting closer and closer before everything went black. Beau was looking out into his backyard once more.

“How about once your dad gets home, we go outside and play in the snow? Would you like that, Beau?” His mom asked him, completely unaware that, only miles from their house, her husband was dead.

Beau was young at the time, but he had heard enough stories and watched enough T.V. to understand what he had just seen. He looked up at his mom, and once she saw the tears in his eyes, her smile immediately vanished, quickly becoming replaced with worry.

“I don’t think we can do that,” Beau said quietly, young mind still turning what he saw over and over in his head. He tried to wrap his head around it all, but it was hard. He looked out the window, searching the dark night for any sort of explanation as to what he just witnessed, anything but what he actually saw.

“Beau, what’s wrong?” His mom asked worriedly.

As a tear slipped down his cheek, he turned to his mom and, with all of the strength he could muster, said “I-I saw it.”

“Saw what, honey?” She asked, but the sinking feeling in her stomach warranted his next response.

He took deep, gulping breaths in an attempt to keep the tears and the anxiety at bay. “Dad’s dead.”