Writing

This is my writing. I'm going to turn it into a story
The plot is that not all people have a good life, especially animals.

My paws silently move over the crunchy leaves. My tail swings in the air and my ears swivel round. I reach a dark alley and I look round. Apart from bins and old cardboard boxes (HEAPS) the alley is empty. A relatively small box on the bottom of the tower has it's opening facing into the street. Boxes above it make a ridge and shadow my tiny box from prying eyes. I leap inside and settle down. Curling up into a ball I close my eyes willing my body to sleep.

In the morning, I opened my eyes to a huge face. My instincts kicked in and I start hissing. He does not move, he has an evil glint in his eye and he is reaching into his back pocket. He starts to drool and laugh hysterically. Immediately before he can react I start slashing. His face, eyes, arms and legs are all torn and scratched up. I bare my teeth and lunge at his already torn up face. He stands up as quick as he can and bolt out of my alley as if he had seen a ghost. My claws are gleaming with blood.