We are wet, cold, and scared. The choppy water making us all feel sick. I clench my stomach trying to hold down the seasickness. I can see the others are trying to as well but Diehl and Ricker are unsuccessful. I can smell the powder in the air mixed with the saltwater. My stomach drops with each whooshing sound of a bomb going off. Water keeps coming over the sides, drenching us even more. I couldn’t sleep last night, my mind constantly going back to Thanksgiving. For the first time in years my whole family had been together to sit and eat Ma’s apple pie. My senses are on overload and I can’t get my hands to stop shaking. I look around trying to see the faces of the boys I’ve been with, but all their eyes are fixated on the floor of the ship.
