On the ship, I was of no use. It wouldn't be until we reached the island that I would be proved useful, so all I could do was put faith in my comrades and hope for survival.

I was inside my room, and from the glimpses of my window, I saw a huge dust of wind, yellow lightning, and afterwards purple lightning. The rain was heavy. It poured on the ship, and every drop sounded as if we were being hit by cannonballs. The ship shook several times, and every object inside moved left and right. There were many times where I felt as if the ship was being lifted into the air.

After about 5 hours of this, the storm stopped. The ship had minor injuries, and we continued on our journey. After passing the storm, there were still 2 more days of travel. I ventured outside every now and then to breathe in the air, which was remarkably fresh, fresher than any air I've breathed.

Of course, it was since this area hasn't been meddled with by us humans, but that is all about to change. The island, while dangerous, will be ruined, its threats overcome as humanity always finds a way to fuck things up. The scariest part is that we're aware of how we harm nature. We know that overhunting, polluting, and wars are horrible and ultimately pointless; however, we still continue to do it anyway, acting like a drug addict.

I haven't seen Angeles at all for a while, and I would like to keep it that way.

The days were normal and bland, but the nights were anything but. The sky shined brightly, and a white hole could be seen. A meteor shower occurred, and the sky kept changing colors - purple, yellow, light brown. It was a spectacle to witness; it could keep you up all night. But there was something else that kept me up all night; there were these strange occurrences.

I heard whispering at night as if someone was in front of my door, but every time I checked, there was no one there. I kept hearing squeaking as if someone was tiptoeing their way close to my room, but again, nothing. Maybe I haven't gotten enough sleep; there must be an explanation for my sudden paranoia. Then the nightmares began.

I always forgot about my dreams the second I woke up, but somehow now I am able to recall my dreams in vivid detail, leaving very few things out. All the nightmares felt real and familiar- slit throat, blood flowing down, the knife on the sand, and stars glowing in the pitch black. Memories best left forgotten.

In all this time, the captain kept himself scarce on the deck and locked himself inside his room. He was very much like myself, to which I relate. However, he had duties, while I did not, and the captain refused to answer anyone's calls. Instead, he was reading, I believe, and muttered some nonsensical language which I am not familiar with at all. As the night came closer, he was yelling the words out loud. At this point, we tried to break into the door.

Once we finally did, the captain was gone, and all that was left was a note that read 'it,' and it looked like another word was going to be written, but it abruptly stopped; not even the first letter was fully written.

This shook us all, and we wondered what had gotten into this man. I saw Angeles being concerned, and he began to bite his nails.

We looked everywhere on the ship, but the captain was nowhere to be seen. The crewmen wanted to head back, but Angeles was adamant we couldn't head back now, and it was true; we've come too far to go back.

With not much to do, I went to bed and later was awoken by a knock on my door. One of the crewmen told me that we reached the island.