I thought it could not get any worse

I had mentioned a while back that the noise and smell was horrible. I spoke too soon. Much too soon. I had not accounted for a storm.

Take the sound of animals and humans and add moaning and retching of women getting sick to the sounds along with the crashing waves. The pounding rain and the booming thunder and the snapping lightning. Then you have the sounds that are occurring here.

Yet, as bad as the sounds are…the smells have to be worse by a thousand-fold. The urine, feces, the bile, the sweat, and the stench of fear. The seawater with the sea life dying in it, the women's soaked belongings, and the waterlogged crates and barrels. Oh, and do not forget the very wood itself. It lends the most…intriguing aroma to the mix.

We have no window's to open, we cannot open the hatch above the steps. We are virtual prisoners down here. The swaying of the hammocks are unbearable, yet the only other alternative is to sit or lay on the waterlogged floor. We have not seen hide nor hair of the captain or any of the crew since the storm begain. If we could not hear the occasional shout or boot thudding on the wood above us over the din of the storm, I would begin to wonder if we had been abandoned.

It has been only a day--or has it been two?--but it feels much longer than that. Already several of the women are showing signs of fever…and one is even showing symptoms of madness. I am beginning to fear for these women…and in reality, we have barely begun our journey.

I have to wonder, just how much worse this is going to get…and I am not talking of the storm--not with this…

~Shashanna