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Mika had never been on a ship before. Soon he began to wish he never had set out on his journey. Storm after storm seemed to hit the ship. If there were any other passengers aboard he certainly couldn't find them. And the crew, like phantoms themselves, offered him no comfort. Even his guitar kept going so out of tune because of the wet salty air that he packed it away, and spent most of the days in bed wishing he were home. And then on the twelfth
day out at sea a terrible storm hit the ship, splitting it in two. Mika
didn't really know what happened after that. He just held onto a splinter
of wood, and shivered in the cold dark water. He dozed, then awoke,
cold and lonesome, wishing more than ever that he were home.
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