June 25th, 2014

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June 25th, 2014

       "O hasn't eaten in three days. Other than a few pieces of bread that she forced down, she hasn't touched anything else. Apparently she doesn't eat meat, which does not leave her with a lot of options on the ship. The way across was cheap, no names or questions asked, and I didn't even think about comfort when I made the deal. A few more days and we will be back on land, and I need to find her a comfortable place to stay a few nights. I can see she wants nothing more than to feel better, but every time a wave hits the big ship, she vomits up more stomach acid. She is starting to look like when we first met; sunken eyes, weak smiles. I hate seeing her like this.

       I've been working on the ship to help make some cash, and I'm not the only one with that idea in mind. So far, I've made enough to get us by for a while, but it won't last long. I'm starting to worry that Ophelia has caught something; she had never really been out in the real world until recently, and has never been exposed to everything that is out here. The possibilities of what might be wrong with her are endless, and being unable to do a damn thing to help her... I hate this."


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