Down Frodingham Road, there is an alley, where cocaine and vodka and cigarettes are dumped daily by some chavs after being thrown out of the pubs. Billy was running through the housing estate away from his parents. He couldn't stand another beating. Hastily he ran through the alley. He was running in bare feet as he didn't have time to put on his shoes. If they caught him he would literally die of the wounds he would get. His foot bled on the smashed bottles. His head hurt with the drug fumes. He crashed into walls turning corners. Then I saw the person I would least like to see.
"Thought you could get away, slimy bugger? You're in for it now, ain't that right, Dianne?"
A mocking cackle sounded like a foghorn behind me. It was his wife, Dianne. The was holding a spade.
"You ready to get beat'n? Cuz you're gonna get mashed to blood pulp, you b***h!"
Billy has to this day hasn't been found. Some people say that he was burned alive. Some say he was gassed with mustard gas. Others say a smashed beer bottle was rammed at his throat...
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