New Story

So I decided to write a story I guess. Just out of boredom, but this idea kinda came from my imagination and I decided to run with it. The English and grammatical sentence structuring is improper and I know this. I am, however, just writing to write the story and get it out of my head so that I can at least have it written down. This is the story so far. Let me know what you think.


TITLE: ?

INTRODUCTION
Every choice we make, results in a decision that affects our lives. What if those choices could be reversed? What if, upon deciding on one option, another part of your life was created where you chose the opposite of your previously made decision? We could almost be living in two similar, yet different lives. To change the past, means to correct the future, altering your life into another one which might not have even been conceived. There are endless decisions to your choices, but what would happen if those choices could be decided, then re-decided? Would we choose the same thing if we knew the long term results of said choice? Or we would look ahead to see the direct influence our actions had upon ourselves or others, and change them?

CHAPTER 1
It's morning. 6 A.M. to be precise. I've barely slept all night. This is the type of night where I wish my insomnia didn't decide to be on my case and keep me thrashing around in my bed. Why can't I sleep? I made sure to go to bed earlier than normal, closed the curtains so that absolutely no light could get through, and even put on some melodic classical music to help soothe me. What resulted in a definite assurance that I would be out like a light within the matter of minutes, turned into a four and a half hour toss/tumble on my cot while I attempted to find a comfortable position. Once it hit around 3:30 A.M., I finally managed to doze off into my haunted, psychotic world of dreams. These aren't the dreams that most people generally doze into. My "field of dreams" is rather an ocean, endless in width, where I'm tossed between the waves. No shore is in sight. The thunderstorm pours above my head as I come to grips with my fate: I am stranded with no one to help me. I am lost at sea and I will never be found. My death has been decided upon by the cruel forces of nature; what causes fear to leap into my veins is when I will no longer have the strength to continue fighting the waves that swallow me up and then spit me back out. A final wave comes crashing down upon me and sweeps me under the waves, preventing me from resurfacing in time to catch my breath. As I lose my breath, each second causing me to violently speed towards the surface, I faintly hear a voice telling me, "You should have put a life jacket on. This wouldn't have happened if you had put on a life jacket". Before I drown, and the world becomes dark, I wake up, drenched in sweat, breathing heavily.
My alarm has been buzzing for the past two minutes; for some odd reason I didn't wake to it once it went off. It's still dark out, but it's always that way now that winter has settled in on my little hometown. I lazily roll out of bed and make my way to to the bathroom, tripping slightly on the cat on my way to the door. Friskles, he's a Persian breed, and annoying as ever. Every time he wakes up, he's in the grumpiest mood. He hisses at me, tries to bite me, and causes me to trip over him all the time. Nuisance, and just another mouth to feed here. But my little brother, John, is obsessed with him, so for the most part, I do what I can to make sure he's happy and content, even if I have considered roasting him alive on occasion.
After fumbling around for the light switch for several minutes, the light finally fills the bathroom, causing me to squint while peeling off my clothes. I don't even bother to look into the mirror cause I'm not in the mood to fuss about my appearance. The water pours out of the shower head and I step into the waterfall cascade as it soaks me from head to toe. I don't even feel alive at this point; more like I'm half dead, half asleep, half numb from the lack of sleep, the lack of food, and the overall lack of adequate rest I've desperately needed. My job, which consists of me working in the grain fields in the Old Quarter of Abapire, is often long and strenuous, with work hours usually consistent between nine to eleven hours. A lunch of twenty five minutes is allotted, but the work is hard, the weather is usually hot despite the fact it's now winter, and the pay is meagre. I put up with it only because of John; he's all I have and letting him go hungry would cause me pain and suffering.
Both my parents were killed when I was 13 to a military outbreak accident on the Southern Peninsula, right near where the old state of Georgia used to be. They were both ambassadors to the political regions of the different states within the country. The different states separated when the Outbreak occurred, and many of them formed alliances with one another and became it's own country within the old region of the United States. For example, the further Western states, seceded from the United States and formed themselves in the Western Peninsula, naming their new founded country Arcadia. The states there were able to use the commonwealth of the people and formed their own military, their own government, and built a defensive barrier for themselves against the other nations. Or should I say, more specifically for the Empty lands in the Southern Peninsula. The Central Peninsula soon followed suit, and once the Eastern Peninsula seceded, the United States dissolved and was no more. Only four different Peninsula's remained within the confines of the old country. Three of them civilized, barred, protected, and watched over from inside their respective governments. The Southern Peninsula, remains uncivilized, with nothing left but the Sick who wander aimlessly through the land. They aren't human. They are sleepless creatures, the remains of what used to be normal, civilized human beings. Deteriorating and decaying from the sickness which is spread throughout their bodies.
We don't know where the Infection came from; all we know is, once it spread, it spread too fast to contain. The Southern States were the first to come under attack from it; humans normally going about their daily lives, suddenly collapsing on the sidewalks, only to get back up and no longer register any thoughts or emotions. They killed others who weren't already infected, often using savage and horrific ways to mutilate and eat them. In the culture of the past, they are referred to as zombies. Only, we never thought it would ever occur. Now, we just call them "The Sick" and pretend they don't exist. If only there was a way to go back, to change the course of events which happened, to kill off the Infection before it could spread, maybe the world would't be in the shape it is now.

Great start I like where its going. And it isn't so bad. The writing is good. Really like to see this finished and maybe after its all out ta your head you can fix it up. But so far nightmare approves.

Haha will do. Yeah I know, I figure, going back and working on the grammatical errors and sentence structure will slow down the process of just writing it. And then I'll hit major writers block and forget where to go next

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