It turned 
dark, very dark, just like all the other nights before, at least the air attacks had stopped. Powerful gusts of wind broke parts of the mast off and scattered all over the deck. We all were at mercy of the raging storm, our despair of ever reaching land became reality by the minute. The ones who stood near the side of the boat were swept overboard. It was impossible to save them. I clung to the barbed wire that separated us from the prisoners below. The monstrous waves were ready to swallow the boat, which seemed like a helpless toy trying to stay afloat. The storm intensified, I felt a sharp pain, some object that had broken off had landed on me. I fell unconscious. Time had passed, the fury had subsided and deep silence settled around the boat. I had learned to be cautious of silence, most often that was a sign of approaching aggression. Maybe the sudden quiet caused me to wake. A prisoner had been holding on to my hand during the storm so I don’t get washed into the sea. I had lost my voice during the trauma that I had endured days ago and he could not speak to reasons I could only predict. I had had a guarding Angel to save my life during the storm. He reached out to save me, his own journey soon might end in the forsaken quarters below the deck.
