The unfortunate tale of a boy named Ben
I would start this story with the words Once upon a time but that would not be appropriate. For this did not happen in a fairy tale as those words would suggest. Nor would this story be appropriate in a fairy tale as what will be laid down on these pages are not for the eyes of small children.
No, if you picked this story up for a reason such as this then I would suggest that you put this down and look somewhere else. I believe that on the shelf below the one you found this on there is a story about a wolf who tries to eat three rather plump and industrious pigs. That would be better for a small child.
However; if you are here because you wished to read a tale of despair, tragedy, hopelessness and all around depressing things. Or if you obtained it from a peculiar purple telephone box whilst trying to call your friends and subsequently not succeeding. Then, you have found the right story. I bid you continue. But be forewarned; this is no ordinary story. It does not end with and they lived happily ever after because the characters in the story do not. But that comes later.
I would like to introduce you to Ben. An ordinary 12 year old boy with an ordinary upbringing in the suburban streets of London. Two parents who cared for him, no brothers or sisters. An ordinary boy, from an ordinary place, with an ordinary home life.
Our story starts on the train. Ben was taking it to school for an ordinary day of studious learning. Where, upon his return to his home his head would be bursting with the knowledge and ideas that he had gathered that day.
Little did Ben realise. His school was not going to be his final destination. No, where he was headed was going to be far less appealing, and far more appalling. However for this transcription to make any sense we must begin at the beginning.