Tracking Logan Foster

{10} The Reason

The comforting sound of the wheels rolling over the tracks did nothing to calm my emotions after the incident with Logan's brother. My hands were clenched in my pockets as my teeth were clenched together in frustration.

By no means did I know the whole story, and perhaps I never would, but that still didn't give Justin the right to say that Logan was better off dead.

Everyone was entitled to live their life, whether that be in despair or happiness because without one, you couldn't have the other.

Two more days passed in lonesome silence. I took minimal bites of the leftover food to last long enough until the train rumbled into familiar territory; where Logan and I had first boarded the adventure that changed my life.

Throwing myself off of the moving train, I tumbled across the uneven ground, rolling until I came to a stop against the trunk of a tree.

I grunted, rubbed the back of my head, and shakily climbed to my feet as I heavily leaned against the sturdy tree for support.

I was home.

The feeling of comfort and love that filled my chest when I thought of home and family wasn't there. Instead, I felt an empty hole where my heart had been.

All of the snow had melted, leaving behind mud puddles that coated my boots as I marched through the woods that had once acted as my salvation, but now seemed more like a haunted graveyard from the way the bare trees hung down, fingers reaching down to me.

As I traveled, I finally emerged onto the side of a one-way road lined with modest sized houses. I immediately picked my house out as the last one all the way down to the left.

Despite it being the middle of the night, every light was turned on inside the house. As I passed by the telephone poles, my heartbeat picked up when I recognized what the flyers taped to each one were.

A candid picture of myself stared back at me with the complete opposite expression I wore. I remembered that day as if it had just happened yesterday.

In the photo, I was laughing with my blue eyes shining and brown hair curled down my back in waves. It had been in the middle of the summer when my best friend, Wyatt, had snapped the picture for her photography class.

I'd been completely enthralled and overjoyed by the surrounding nature foreground that I hadn't even minded being her personal model for a few hours.

The sudden realization that this poster was advertising a missing person report had me sprinting to my house as fast as I could muster.

My finger jabbed the doorbell, ringing it several times as I stood in wait for my parents.

The door bursted open from the urgency I had used to signal them, and my mother's blue eyes widened into saucers before her arms descended around me, practically squeezing the life out of me.

"I'm okay, Mom," I assured her, taking a step back to search her face for signs of distress.

I hadn't realized how much worry I would cause my parents after being gone for... I didn't even know how long.

She ushered me into the warm house filled with love, and sat me down on the nearest floral couch in front of our massive fireplace.