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.

He couldn't stop the slight tremble of his hands and the urge to shut his eyes and pass out. He reached for his phone in the pocket and realized that it was not there. He was holding it just moments ago, where the hell did it go?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Logan muttered in frustration, shoving his clammy hands deep in his pockets. His skin, his jeans felt wet with sweat, but his mouth was completely dry. His hands balled into fists. "FUCK."

That bastard had plucked his phone right out his hands like a fucking magician when he was there gaping at him like an idiot.

He had fallen right into a trap and as realization hit him like a bucket full of icy water poured ruthlessly over him, he grabbed Gizmo's leash and whirled around. The blood drained from his body. Three large men crowded before him. Fuck.

Gizmo was immediately restrained by one man and Logan was cornered by the other two. He couldn't see their faces through his obscure vision, only their eyes and eyebrows since they were wearing surgical masks. If Logan would have seen them in a movie, he would have laughed at how ridiculous they looked. But right in front of him, threatening to take his life, his body became rigid like a rock.

It seemed as if they were waiting for a response from him and just as Logan opened his mouth to speak and took a step forward, one man beckoned the other. That man was the one with the coldest blue eyes . . . The bastard who had lured him in and taken his phone.

Logan let out a cry and struggled as his arms were twisted behind his back and he kicked his legs when they tried to seize them. He yelled impulsively, "Y-You fucking assholes! Leave me t-the fuck alone! Tell your boss to go and fuck himself!"

His voice was scratchy and raw like no drop of water had ever slid down his throat.

The men didn't say anything and tried to control his wild movements. They were shorter than him, but all muscles. Logan started to shake his head too, as vigorously as he could, to distract them. It worked because the grip on his arms loosened and taking this opportunity, he miraculously grasped the kitchen knife tucked safely in his back pocket. And without a second thought, he bravely stabbed the man right behind him. Everything was going so fast, a thrill ran through Logan's body and he couldn't believe what he just did. There was a startled silence then a painful groan erupted in the air. Logan felt giddy and he tried to reach for the knife again which was stuck deep in the man's thigh, close to his groin. Before he could move an inch, he was suddenly tackled to the ground by the man with those frosty eyes.

His front pressed against the rocky road and a suffocating weight settled over him. He tried to get up, but his head was raised up by his hair and thud. His head hit the hard concrete. Sharp pain shot through his head and again thud. Blood oozed out and through a screen of angry tears, he could see Gizmo's paws wrestling in the man's arms.

"That's it. He warned not to get our hands dirty." He heard a low whisper, but he wasn't sure if he had heard correctly. It meant that they weren't going to kill him with their bare hands. He could feel heaviness and difficulty in breathing, they were already killing him anyway. The weight of the man was crushing him. His body had gone limp like a ragdoll and black dots danced in front of his eyes. He felt his face slimy with blood.

He couldn't give up, he couldn't give up just yet. His arms and legs were weak, his mind was still strong. He could do something, anything.

He must have shook a little because his head was raised again and thud.

"Enough." He scarcely saw the footsteps of the man holding Gizmo approaching him and dust flew before him

He was lifted into a standing position, but Logan couldn't stand anymore. His body sagged lifelessly like he was already dead. His mind was screaming at him to hold on, to hold on just a little. To hope a little more.

With drooping eyes, he saw a brown shape scurrying away. Gizmo had managed to break free from the man but now it ran away from Logan. Not towards him. Great, the Labrador had chickened out.

The two men were dragging him by his arms towards the railings and his face burned from the pain and the glare that the wounded man lying down was shooting at him. It was a clever idea, they were going to toss him down the bridge and this murder would be seen as a possible suicide. His uncle was cunning, he had devised the perfect plan.

Logan's scruffy sneakers scraped against the dirt road, his head throbbing in agony. He wanted to break free like Gizmo, he just wanted to go home. But now he was going back to his old home, to his beautiful mother, his coconut like father- tough on the outside and soft in the inside, his precocious little brother and his kind grandma. Their faces flashed before him, but somehow for the first time so close to death, he wanted to stay back.

He wanted to live and go to the football matches with his middle school friends, work on projects with his college mates, tend to customers with Joy's grandpa at the flower shop, have dinners with Joy's family and run to Joy who was patiently waiting for him in her room. He remembered how far he had come, how much he started to love and was loved in return. All lovely moments started playing in his head- Gemma, Jamal, Shaun, Marilyn, Joy and him skipping stones in the calm ocean on a warm summer morning. Joy's soft kisses and murmurs as they cuddled in his small apartment. Joy's fragile hands below his when he showed her how to build solid sandcastles. Her vivid blue eyes, strong heart and fierce love which made him hopeful about the future.

'Come here!' He heard Joy's sweet voice calling him. There she was- standing in a field of swaying sunflowers, smiling at him. The sun was right behind her making her pale skin somehow luminous. She looked like a Goddess.

Logan felt his body getting hauled over the railings. He could barely twitch his fingers and he tried to shift, but someone deliberately pressed him hard. The rods dug in his stomach and all breath was knocked out of his body.

'Come here!' Joy's blonde hair bobbed among the sunflowers, her yellow dress swishing around her slim legs. Logan wanted to get up, he wanted to chase her and tackle her to the ground and kiss her until they were both breathless. He wanted to hold her and whisper how much he loved her.

A stinging noise squeaked in his ears, his sense of this marvellous world slipping from his body as his head was raised again and his chin was slammed against the thick rod. Joy's image started to fade, all the bright sunflowers and her merged into a dark abyss of pain. There was no opening, no light, only an endless ocean of deep waters and thunderclouds hovering above.

His eyes closed, his breathing became shallow and his heartbeats slowed. 

He only wanted to live.