A few of my previous written stories

read this!

Benjamin Bratz

“What is my story?”

Book after book.. Day after day… he sits there on a chair… sits there reading, engrossed in stories, but indifferent to his own. The room, murky and dark, a room filled to the brim with a repugnant odour that fails to be noticed only by himself. However, contrary to the beliefs held by his former friends, he is happy, happy sitting there on his chair and reading the never ending supply of books brought in by his family. This boy once went by the name Nat. Now he is naught but a book plower, forever trapped by the mirth and diversion brought to him by the books, trapped in a vortex of pleasure. The worst of times for this boy is when, for whatever reason, he has to drop a book. Toilet break? Food? Sleep? To Nat they all mean the same exact thing, taking a…

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