First day of trip journals

Ben, Dylan and Gerry’s journals

First day of trip (late summer)

Ben’s POV : I hate this ship, I hate dad and I hate how mom had to die. Death is totally a common thing because a lot of people die per minute and Dylan would know the exact number, but that’s not my point, mom was special. He tore me away from Andrew, our house and our past. He’s the only one smiling with a wide toothy grin while the rest of us glare or absent mildly look into the distance. We are slowly drifting away from everything I love on shore.

Dylan’s POV: Mom was 1 out of 108 people that dies per minute in the world a few months ago, and there is no way to fix it. When Gerry falls, dad scoops him up and puts a Band-Aid on his cut, but you can’t heal a dead person (at least not in this dimension), so nothing anybody says will make this better. I guess this is how mom and dad felt when their fourth son was 1 out of 267 born per minute around the world, and the next second dies. As much as I love science, there is no formula that will mend our broken hearts. There isn’t anything good that comes from this absurd voyage except, the stars. Back home the light pollution hides them, but out here in the open sea, they sparkle brilliantly and there reflections bounce of the water with a silvery blue glow. I believe that each star in the sky is a person who has passed, or a great hero and sometimes when I look up mom, is watching close by a little star which is my brother.

Gerry’s POV: I remember the moment before dad told us we would go boating, that Ben was making me a sandwich. It was peanut butter and jelly, one of my favorites. I started to giggle when he spread on the jelly, because I used to be afraid of it. I thought jelly was squeezed out of jellyfish, until Ben explained to me, that they have nothing in common except they both jiggled. Right now my legs feel how a jellyfishes’ must, because the boat keeps moving. Dad says I’m probably “seasick”, because I’ve already thrown up 2 times, but I don’t know what that means. Everyone looks sad about mom, but I don’t remember her much, Dylan says my Blankie smells like her though.