A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Sixty Three : The Boy Gone

Third Person's POV [Logan's POV]

It was late evening. The clouds floated away and the sun was slithering down, dispersing orange light across the horizon. The vast sky above was a light pink as if at the anticipation of the moon, the sky was blushing. A lone sparrow was teetering on a tree with russet coloured leaves before it finally decided to flap it's tiny wings and soar in the autumn breeze. Children with sweaty faces, bruised knees and grubby hands were returning home after playing, some still tossing the ball among them and shouting with zeal while others stumbling tiredly with thirst glinting in their young eyes.

Logan saw the town come to life as he strolled with Gizmo, making his way to Joy's house. He hadn't seen her yesterday because he was caught up in a project and couldn't wait to see her face light up and her lips stretch into a wide smile when he entered her room. She always did that as if seeing him made her truly happy like he was something valuable. He never thought that being a day away from the person he loved could do this to him, but he was a master at keeping his feelings under control. After all, he had lost too many people to know how to not get deranged from being kept away.

He had not taken Gizmo out for a walk yesterday so he took him all around the town even though he wanted to see Joy as soon as possible. But the dog deserved it. Gizmo was always so co-operative and made everyone around him laugh just by wagging his tail. Logan was not the kind of person to show extreme compassion towards animals or even humans, but Gizmo, he had already taken a special place in Logan's home.

The sunlight shone on Gizmo's rich coat of chocolate coloured fur as they halted occasionally to let each random stranger pet him lovingly. One particularly muscular man in dark jeans and a black tank top stopped to pet Gizmo. Logan was busy checking messages in his phone, gave only a brief glance at the man when he felt the leash get tugged and Gizmo getting lifted in the air.

His old friends from middle school had texted asking whether he was free the coming weekend for a football match or occupied doing things with his girlfriend. It was friendly teasing since none of his friends had a lasting girlfriend. Logan chuckled to himself, replying back that he wanted to be with Joy which earned more suggestive jokes from them.

Logan felt someone staring at him hard so he finally looked up from his phone. There was a blaze of cold, blue eyes before him and the man snarled, "Weak dog for a weak boy." Gizmo was set down and the man turned, disappearing before Logan could blink.

Had he heard him right? Was his mind playing games with him?

Panic surged through his body as Logan quickly gathered Gizmo in his arms and unsuccessfully ran in the way the man had gone. He shouted like a madman, "Hey, hey!"

He felt his head spin around and he paused when he realized his efforts were futile. He took deep breaths, his heart still pounding heavily in his chest. It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay. Nothing was wrong. Weak dog for a weak boy? He would have not heard that man clearly. But those eyes had sent chills down his spine and that mocking tone of his voice . . .

Logan then directly gazed at Gizmo and saw the dog whimpering quietly in his arms. The fear in Gizmo's eyes confirmed his own dread churning in his stomach. He began to frantically search for any injury or mark on Gizmo, sighing in relief when he found none. At least, poor Gizmo wasn't drugged or poisoned.

Beads of sweat appeared over his mouth and forehead as he placed Gizmo down. His vision clouded and he rubbed his eyes. Once. Twice. Thrice. All he could see was a blur shape of a brown animal below him and a deserted bridge ahead. When had he arrived here? He avoided this secluded path, how could he have possibly ended up here? He was lured here, he had followed that bastard like a stray cat stalking a fisherwoman with a basket filled with smelly fishes.