Ghosts
It must have been one happy ship.
XOXO
The Going Merry remembers every board, every nail, all the energy and sweat that had been put into it. It remembers a sickly young girl wandering aboard when the Merry itself was only about half built. It remembers completion, pride, and... I will carry this crew from one shore to another!
It was a promise. A promise the Merry made to itself, even though it didn't know why. Only that it had to. If it couldn't, well that just wouldn't do. Couldn't, wouldn't work. But the Going Merry remembers a crew. It remembers the sun and the sea, harsh rain and waves bashing at its hull. It remembers warm bodies sprawled out on the deck, private conversations in the crow's nest, the smell of food wafting around the galley. The Going Merry remembers blood and grog, and most of all, laughter. Loud and happy... bright! and it thought... I WILL carry this crew from one shore to another!
The Going Merry remembers bullet-lead and cold, unforgiving steel, it remembers every lovingly repaired patch of itself. It remembers pain and it would just shrug it off because it would just know that it suffered to fulfill its purpose and to tell you the truth, it didn't really mind. Each slipping, weary board was another reminder to strive harder and hold itself together; each rib would groan to remind it that it could not go on much further though it must and it will; every crack was another reminder that the crack in the keel would only keep getting wider but it must keep together until the next shore.
Don't worry, the Going Merry thought, pulling itself slowly and painfully back together, I'll carry you all a little longer.
The Going Merry remembers feet pounding across the deck, heads bashing into cabin walls. It remembers screams and flames, silence and shadows. The Going Merry was still young, not even close to the ten years many ships lasted but then again, not all ships made it onto the Grand Line. These waters were strange but familiar, comfortable-- and the Going Merry thought, I would not mind sinking here.
It was with some relief that the Going Merry felt skilled carpenter's hands around its rails, on its boards and as it felt itself being pulled apart, the Going Merry knew that its job was finished and that the crew could stop depending on it. Going Merry didn't think it could have lasted much longer anyway. It had known, I am no longer a ship.
The Going Merry dashed away tears with the back of its hand, clutching a hammer and covered by a raincoat sleeve several sizes too large. It had still had some growing up to do, after all. Someone said, "Are you sure...?"
"Yes. I'm ready."
"You seem happy."
"I was. I am." It managed a cheery, sparkling grin, "I'm happy here. I was happy there, too. They'll just be sad if they knew I was! So I guess it's time to go."
The Going Merry remembers the sandy, wet ground beneath its keel and knew it had brought them to the shore it had promised.