Trisha lay in a coma on life support, her parents crying near her hospital bed. Time was running out and the decision to discontinue the life support was being discussed. But unknown to her family and doctors she wasn't dead, but trapped inside, ins...
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Around midnight, a hundred miles out of Bozeman, Mike was fighting panic attacks. He hadn't slept in over 48 hours and had to deal with bratty kids, crying babies, annoying middle-aged men playing teenage video games on their phones, and the countless stops along the way. Now he was finally on the last leg of the journey and would get to Bozeman a little after 2am Thursday morning.
He still didn't know what he was going to do once he got there. He knew he needed to find some place cheap to stay and some food. He only had $190 left of his life savings and needed to stretch that out as long as he could. Food and shelter were two things he had to have.
The middle-aged bearded man next to him, who had been playing Warcraft on his phone for the last five hours since he got on the bus and sat beside him, cursed as his phone died. "Crap!" He yelled once again, not caring about disturbing those around them sleeping. He looked around at all the sleeping people, then at Mike, who was the only other person beside the bus driver and himself not passed out. "Hey man, you got a power stick?"
Mike did, but shook his head no. "Sorry, don't"
"Shit!" He cursed again. This time many of the nearby passengers grunted and shifted in their seats showing their annoyance. "I was right in the middle of the 'Battle for Azeroth'!" He said air quoting the name of the battle and throwing his head back against his seat. "The guys are going to give me shit when I get back in!"
The only thing worse than watching the guy play on his phone was listening to him talk about the game. Mike didn't need a video game. He had the Dream World and had fought a real battle against real witches and zombies, and so on. After a while, Mike wished he had given the guy his power stick, especially after he slipped and told him he had never played Warcraft.
"You're shitting me!" The man said, looking wide eyed and open-mouthed at him. "What kid on the planet hasn't played or at least watched friends play Warcraft? You got to be the only one on the whole damn planet, I swear!" It was true. His video game had been the Dream World. The ultimate game that put everything else to shame.
Mike looked ahead as the man began a full in-depth lesson on how to play the game. Mike really wasn't interested and looked at the road ahead, the white striped lines flowing down the freeway and then he saw the taillights. Lots and lots of taillights!
"Look out!" Mike screamed at the driver, pointing ahead. The driver had noticed the mass of red taillights ahead at the same time Mike yelled and hit the brakes, but it was too late. The bus plowed right into and through a backed-up freeway of cars and trucks. Mike and the man next to him where vaulted from their seats into the backs of the seats in front of them.
Mike quickly sat up, but there was no bus. Instead, he was sitting on a sand dune in the middle of the day under a hot sun. No, make that two hot suns! He instantly realized he was back in the dream world, all alone. It had been two days since he'd been able to dream, and he figured the others had left and would meet him at the third oasis.
