One morning, the world woke up to find that some people had died. This in itself wasn't unusual, but these people were still walking around, talking, and working, and doing all the other things people do. They just happened to be dead. They didn't try to eat people, like in the movies, and they didn't stagger around or anything. I was one of the dead, though I was the only one in my family who had made the change. To be dead was to be the hippest thing around. The outcome of the Presidential election and the Super Bowl were going to change entirely due to one candidate and one football team being dead. I would tease my sister at the dinner table and laugh at her pink skin. "Ha, your skin isn't blue like mine..."

Dreamed by: Joel McLemore