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random clam
bhvvvvvgfrctfvkhgcftxdxsraztrdcfvtfgby
yeah im not going to type the rest of that story.so heres a new one:
Reoccurrence
Walking through the barren land, bodies everywhere, Benjamin went on in fear of what might happen next. And then...
“Ben! Come get breakfast now or you’ll be late for school!” As my mom called, I woke up from the same nightmare if had for months. Always our town after some sort of attack. Who knows why I’ve been having reoccurring dreams. Oh well, got to get to school.
In case you’re wondering, my name is Benjamin Klain. I’m fourteen and in the eighth grade. Some people call me the smartest kid in school. Ok, so maybe I am. My teachers say I should be in college by now. I’d rather not skip so far. And I’d rather not talk about this. So, moving on, I go to some private school whose name is hard to pronounce. We call it shlob for some strange reason that no one knows of. I enjoy licorice, hanging out with some friends, and math. Go ahead, call me a nerd just cause I take calculus in the eighth grade. Like I haven’t heard that one before. And if you care to know, I’m a little on the off side. So you might want to get on my good side. Changing subject completely, I don’t have that much of a social life, but I get out some.
“And so you’ll se the square root of x equals 17.37812.” Waking up during a review lesson that I knew all of, I scratched down some notes and thought to myself,”Why do I always wake up before that one event!?!”
Coming home, George comes up to me and asks if I wanted to go somewhere. Sadly, I was loaded with homework. I would have loved to gone. Mostly cause he always hangs out with Pam. Ah, sweet, sweet Pam. There aren’t enough words in the English language, or any other language for that matter, that can describe her. Her long, blond hair flows do beautifully. If only, if only. You should see my trash bin. Filled with pathetic “letters” to her. One went “...” well, never mind that.
Skipping forward a few years, through torment and guilt, love and loss, pain and sorrow. I’m now eighteen. Finished with college, and on to better things. I now work at some weird company I’ m not supposed to talk about. You didn’t hear it from me. My salary? I’m not even supposed to reveal that. That’s exactly what I said. Pam? Well, I don’t want t o talk about it. There’s a line in a Linkin Park song “The only thing that’s worse than one is none.” Boy is that true. The story? We’ll get on to that.
To be finished.

Tormented_Rose_Petal
Community Member
Tormented_Rose_Petal
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