I felt like explaining cancer from the point of view of a benzene molecule okay.

A Story by Tay

There you lie, as flat as can be, slouched out in your bottle
next to the hundreds of millions of brothers and sisters you have come
to know. Flat. Not just flat, but incredibly thin. The top is twisted
off the bottle. It's like a breath of fresh air. Heck, it is a breath of
fresh air. Up, up you spiral, dizzying spins through the air. The first
thing you come into contact with, you can easily sail through. but now
it's dark again. Through into a cell. What kind of cell? Who cares.
Here's a nice place to rest, but you manage to float over and through
into the nucleus. Damn. Now you're scared, wanting to get out again. You
saw your siblings not far away, but none made it this far. Twisting,
you cut a strand of DNA. Oops. Now you lie flat once more, but the DNA
you cut doesn't seem to be healthy. You wish you could help, but you'd
probably just make it worse. The DNA is replicating, or at least one
half of the strand is. It continues replicating, just making more and
more copies of itself. And all you can do is sit there and watch.
Gradually, a lump appears, a swollen mass of deformed tissue, constantly
increasing in size. If only you could do something. But you sit there,
guilt-ridden, as this monster grows in the cell. You hope the mutation
hasn't spread. You hope the body, the body made of all these tiny cells,
realizes before it's too late.