He didn't know what to do.
It was just a normal, non-freakist day of chores Sunday for Boy. Boy like to garden on sunny day like this. He didn't need to e -endure (is that how aunt Petunia said that?) the heat or rain.
Boy like the garden because he can drink the water from the hose without permission from aunt Petunia or uncle Vernon-
(though he didn't really like uncle Vernon much- his hit hurt)
- and he like how he can eat the vegetables that aunt Petunia i insist (that's how big people say that right?) for the Boy to plant, even though Boy know that they didn't eat the plant like Boy did.
(he know, of course he know. He's the one that cook after all)
So, Boy like his garden just fine.
(he plant all the plant there- no matter what aunt Petunia say to the neightbour)
He like his garden just fine, so why did his plant suddenly grow like weed they'rebiggerthanthehousesorrysorrythisistheBoyfault--he didn't do this.
So he ran, the plant coming alive behind him, eating the house and-
he ran because he will get beaten if he didn't, he's afraid and whatwilluncleVernondoBoy didn't want to find out.
So, he ran far away. Far far far enough so uncle Vernon can't see him, can't catch him, can't hit him-
He just want to be alone....
with a bang, he's gone.
.o.O.o.
sorry for the wrong grammar, this story is not beta-ed.