Chapter 1

The world she had known were always vast, blue, and unknown. The turbid waves and the swaying waters were a constant visitor against her side. Her creator had built her by the blob of bright greenery and a build of white. Her creator would enter the strange white gathering of rocks through a small hole by the back. She didn't like it when her creator left her in the still waves.
It's too quiet and there was nothing in being alone. When her creator was with her though, she would hum a silent buzz as she sang along with the tremulous notes her creator would make. She does not know of the strange notes, nor the things that seemed to ring by her ears each time her creator opened his lips. No matter how much she tried, she could not begin to comprehend what exactly it was.
Still, the time she spent with her creator had always been the best. The curve of his lips and the brightness in his eyes would make her feel warm like how the sun would shine against her hull. She loved it when he would sing his tremulous notes again in a loud excitable manner. It won't be till 3 years later that she learned what it was. At this time, she was just a skeleton of wood floating in the waves.

When she gained her flesh of wood, her understanding grew. Now she recognized the blob as not a blob, but something more like her. It was land, her creator had said. Her understanding grew considerably as her creator polished her newly made deck. She learned that the strange notes her creator would shape with his lips were called words. She learned what speaking is. She learned what expressions are. She understood that she doesn't like her creator leaving her because she was lonely. The warm feelings she gained in the presence of her creator was called being happy. The white construct was not a ship like how her creator had told her she would become. Home is what he called it. A place to return to. At this time, she wondered, "where is her home?" Would it look the way her creator's did? She would rather do without the strange construct.

She was surprised when her creator came with another 'person' who looked and moved so differently from him. Kaya is what he calls her. In return, 'Kaya' called him Merry. Not long after that she finds out that 'her' name was 'The Going Merry'. It is no mystery where the inspiration came from. Kaya would sit by Merry. They would speak with words still unknown to her. But she knew that Kaya's presence made him happy, the same way he made the ship happy.
Kaya was small, so much smaller than Merry. But the sound she made as she sang along with Merry made the ship happy. From that day on Kaya would visit Merry and her by the docks. When Merry couldn't stay, Kaya would sit by her bow. Humming and singing different sounds as she splashed her feet in shallow waters. Her golden hair shimmering in the sun. Sometimes she would bring books and read it out loud just so she could play pretend as the characters. She was never lonely as Kaya continues her visits.
She doesn't know how long time passed as Merry built her, pieces fitting perfectly into narrow slot. But it doesn't matter when she had both Merry and Kaya to accompany her.

Her mast was almost complete when a new addition came to her leisure life. She can't say she liked him though. Klahadore came like a storm, quick and unexpected. He was tall and capable of many things (Her creator mumbled in no small amount of jealousy that he refused to admit). Still The Going Merry was not pleased when Klahadore would pick Kaya up to bring her back to the house. He would always come by the docks searching for Kaya. When he found her, he would carry her back no matter how much small noises of discomfort and protests would spill from little Kaya's lips. After the man's arrival, the time she spent with Kaya become shorter and shorter until finally there weren't any at all. Merry would still come but it was different with Kaya. The Going Merry wondered if this was how losing a friend felt like. As she experienced sadness for the first time, all that was in her head was that she doesn't want to feel like this again.

It was raining that day. She could feel the tenseness in the air as the sun was covered by clouds. When Merry came by that morning, there was no happiness in his eyes. His posture was slumping in his black suit and as he picked up his tools to further improve her, she could see the gloom around him with every strike of his hammer as if he's mourning. The Going Merry is no person, but she is alive. She could feel the change when Merry finally stopped and broke down. Water fell from his eyes as he wailed. The sound was not pleasant. It felt painful, like the time a piece of her hull broke because of the hurricane. Merry had spent hours fixing her after that. But somehow she knew this pain that she is feeling couldn't be fixed. The source wasn't something physical, it was something that wasn't supposed to be there. The Going Merry could do nothing as she watched her creator cried in anguish, expressing his pain to no one but himself without feeling her presence. By next daylight Merry didn't show up, nor the day after. After a few days of not seeing her creator she stopped expecting his presence. She stayed there by the docks, where she had always been with an uncomplete figure head. The Going Merry had never felt so alone.