Hi everybody. I'm Benjamin...well, I actually don't know my last name. I'm 26-I think-and, just like my admittedly crazy title says, death is my father.
He's not like, the Grim Reaper, or some serial killer, or something, no. In fact, I'm not even quite sure what he is.
He could be the wind blowing through your hair at the graveyard, or the crow that looks at you through the window after your grandma dies. He could be in the corner of the hospital room your grandpa always pointed at before he