Novelas y relatos de Good Books For 11-12 Year Olds

—Flashback— “Bronx, there’s a monster in my closet. Maybe it’s a witch.” I peek into his room. He’s reading a book. I bet it doesn’t have pictures. He says books with pictures are little kid books. I like books with pictures though. Maybe when I’m ten like him, I won’t like picture books anymore? That sounds boring. I’ll like picture books forever. “There’s no monster or witch in your closet.” He keeps reading. “It’s your imagination.”

Until I met Aiden at least. “I don’t mind books.” I said in a small voice. It is the one thing my family never took away from me. It is the one thing I could say they gave me though, books. No one read them anyway, historical books mostly. I was fascinated by them when I bumped into one when I was twelve. I was running away from Carlson, who was fourteen at the time and it was on the floor. I fell and lost a tooth but I found the book. Carlson then was into the habit of following me around with beheaded dolls promising the same fate to me. They mostly had long blonde hair which he said were similar to mine, and that they represented me and what he would do the same to me one day.