Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm. He has locked the hen-houses. (His drunkenness) The piss made him forget the pop-holes. Ring of light emitted from the lantern. He lurched across the yard Kicked his boots off . Drew a bottle of sauce (beer). Trudged, up the stairs. Mrs. Jones was already snoring.
Thud. Thud. He ran down the straight, desolate road. He had to escape. He had too. It was his only hope of living a fruitful life. He was free. Crash! He turned around. He saw his captor, his abductor. His nightmare. The abductor started sprinting at an incredible rate towards him. Anger in his eyes. Kyle. That was his name. The boy started running again, but only a miracle would save him. He was nearly on him. He could smell the sweat and overused deodorant on him. This was it. He was never going to have a normal life. He fell to the ground. He sobbed. He was Kyle’s again. Suddenly, he got an idea. He whipped out his Lynx Australia and blasted Kyle in the face. The smell was too horrid. Too Australian. With a guttural scream, he collapsed on the ground, melting into the black, rough ground. The boy stood. Lynx can in his hand. The can fell from his hands, clattering onto the ground. He started seeing black in his vision. The last thing he saw was the murderous, horrid, hairy face of the wild Kyle.
Dunno bout long im stuck. Pls gimme ideas.