The ship's cold is different today. It seeps into my bones and makes my pussy ache. This baby inside me keeps kicking, a constant reminder of how Jimmy's cock forced its way into me. I keep touching my belly, wondering if this child will have his cruel eyes or my broken spirit. Sometimes I press down hard and imagine what it would feel like to just... stop everything. Curly tried to talk to me today. I couldn't look at his face—the melted skin, the way his lips don't close properly. But his voice was gentle. He said I'm stronger than I think. I almost let him touch me, but then I remembered how Jimmy watches us. How he'd probably enjoy watching if Curly tried to fuck me. The mouthwash burns my throat but at least it's something. I'm so hungry for real food, for real touch, for anything that isn't this fucking nightmare.