Cujo was undoubtedly lost.
It was two in the morning in Amity Park, the streets deathly quiet save for the soft padding of Cujo's feet on the sidewalk. He whimpered confusedly; this wasn't the right street either. In fact, he didn't know what street he was on!
He kept going, though his legs were getting tired and sense of loneliness was rising. He travelled down a back alleyway and then followed the streetlights to another neighborhood, and another, and another!
He couldn't find it! He couldn't find home!
Cujo sat suddenly, coming to rest by a rusty green trash bin in yet another back alley. A mangy cat hissed at him and climbed underneath the bin, warning him to keep moving, but Cujo didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered if he couldn't find home!
Cujo began to cry. His whines echoed down the alley and into the darkened street, heard only by the occasional alley cat and rat.
He was lost! He'd never find home again, and it was all his fault. He shouldn't have wandered in the first place. He couldn't believe himself. Stupid, stupid! He couldn't find home!
Cujo cried for an hour straight, howling sorrowfully at the flickering streetlight in unadulterated internal pain. Even the cat underneath the trash bin stopped hissing at him and settled on curling up to sleep.
He was lost! He was lost! He was lost! He'd never find home! He'd never find it!
It went on like this until the early hours of the morning, when the black sky began showing hints of purples and dark, dark blues. The cat startled awake and hit her head on top of the trash bin, mewing angrily. Hurried footsteps were now echoing down the alleyway, unheard by the yowling, whimpering puppy.
"Cujo!" said a voice, loud in the otherwise silent neighborhood. It echoed slightly even without the help of the alleyway, which only magnified it.
Cujo stopped his whimpering upon hearing his name. He turned slowly, afraid that the person whose familiar voice spoke wouldn't be there when he turned around.
Yet, there he was, walking hurriedly toward his small form. His white hair bounced with each step he took.
Home! Home! Home!
Cujo was yapping excitedly, running to him at top speed. He jumped into his arms and nuzzled into his chest.
He'd found home!
Danny chuckled, gently running his gloved hands through Cujo's fur. Cujo was still yipping, though much quieter now.
"Come on, let's go home."
Cujo didn't understand, and he didn't really care, either.
He'd already found home.
i hope you all don't mind the length, seeing as this one is the shortest oneshot i've written so far. as with the last three, please let me know if there are any formatting issues; i'd really appreciate it
here's to an upcoming night of oneshot after oneshot. let's hope i stay awake long enough to get some done.
xx