Twelve

I wrote another story the other day. It's this cute love story, but I wrote it down nicely on this sheet of paper and it looks super nice and stuff and since it's not next to me right now, it's not getting on here.

Speaking of paper, I found this really depressing website on water use: http://environment.nationalgeographic.com/environment/freshwater/embedded-water/

So I just remembered about this story that I've been wanting to write about a person who goes to sleep at night and their dream world is a parallel universe. Basically that's all I've gotten in it because I haven't really thought about it too much. Well I've thought about it to the point where I can't decide if the parallel world is practically an apocalyptic world that appears like it does now but without people or if people should be there. And then I start to not care if it's either and then I stop thinking about it. The problem is also with the plot since there isn't one yet and I keep thinking of things but it would really depend on the population of the parallel world I guess. I've been thinking that the person just dies because they aren't getting enough sleep. There's another scenario where the person dies in one world, probably the parallel one and they either don't go back to this "same dream" or they travel to the parallel universe's afterlife. This recent idea of the afterlife is sounding more interesting and I'm actually thinking about pursuing it. So now I need a beginning point.

My other story had an afterlife in it too. It's more comical than this probably.

Chapter One

It was time to sleep again. I think about my day as I wash my face and brush my teeth. I didn't eat breakfast, went to class, had lunch, went to more class, went to the gym with Yolanda [name has been changed], had dinner, did homework, watched a movie, and now it's nearly midnight and time to go to sleep.
I've actually never understood the term sleep. For other people, from what I've been told, they go to bed and then are able to shut their eyes, feel like a short time passes, and wake up the next morning, sometimes having dreams, other times not having dreams. I've been told it can be refreshing. I guess that makes me not normal.
I don't dream like normal people do in the normal sense of dreaming. My sleep is a seven to ten hour day in another dimension. It's like a parallel world. People look the same with eyes, noses, mouths, cheeks, ears, hair, arms, legs, whatever. There are cars, paved roads, doctors, grocery stores, department stores, malls, dogs, cats, plants, mines, garbage dumps, rain forests, and even a Starbucks (or four huddled around the same intersection) just like the world you know. It seems to look the same. Here though, there are a lot less people, especially less elderly people. The only difference about here is that there isn't really such a thing as a hospital. I mean there is, but it's quite pessimistic. It's actually more of a place where you get a full body check-up. There are even dentists there. They're health care too, you know... Anyways, this hospital can't, or won't, I'm not sure, cure your terminal disease. They won't try to bring back a body without a heartbeat, cure chicken pox, or remove a tumor. I suppose it's possible the human race will live longer there without the imminent threat of a supervirus and there's generally less people there polluting the planet. Unsurprisingly, I've had a lot of friends there die.

I'm actually tired now, in real life so it will continue soon most likely.