The beast from the east

My first of many stories. I got this one solely from a picture. (It starts off a bit cheesy)

An average family was sleeping up late one night. It was a snowy night in southern Maine. "What time is it?" The son asked. He knew they were staying up late that night watching the tele. "Look over there." Pointed his sister, saying in a rude tone as she sounded as if it was obvious. The son looked over to the right, almost slowly, but not to the point to where it looked like there was a problem with his neck. Once he craned his neck to face the clock, he positioned his eyes at the tiny, black, digital clock. It had an ominous red glowing light that showed the time. And a slowly blinking colon to distinguish the hour and minute. The time was 10:43. The son noticed that the curtain was blowing. Odd knowing that the windows were closed and a vent was no where near the window just above the digital clock that sat on a mini wooden table that the family had passed down through the generations. The son stood up to go investigate. As he stood, his foot was asleep. Which gave him a limp. He realized left before right was good strategy to walking as his right foot was going to be dragging. The son made his way to the window. It was blowing cold air and snow in. The son then craned his neck back at his parents. They weren't moving, but the son thought nothing of it as they were most likely interested in the tele. The son turned his head toward the window, raised his arm and pushed with all of his force to shut the window closed. The son then locked the window. He stared outside and saw what looked to be a tall, snowman. The snowman was the shape of a man, with long, lanky arms and legs. The neck was the most off, the son noticed how the neck bent outward from his chest, and was strangely elongated. The head was a skull. The son knew it was real because it had these two cracks in the top of it. The son stood still, paralyzed. As he was staring, a gust of wind came through the street. Noticeable only by the way snow flew across. The snow blocked the sight of the "snowman." After the gust died down, the snowman was gone. The son quickly wipped his head around and ran over to his parent even though his foot was asleep. It gave the son the oddest sensation, almost as if his foot would fall off. The son landed his run on the edge of the couch where his father sit. He put his hand on his fathers shoulder, and realized he was cold as ice. The father did not react. "Dad! I just saw..." the son stopped at the fathers head tilted to the left. The son noticed, he was dead.