I don't have much to say other than that I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's kind of blasé in my opinion, and not very well structured, but it gets the point across… Sorry about the abrupt ending to this chapter, but…

Noodle's kind of just relaying what happened to her from the time she got the Plastic Beach album to when she arrived on Plastic Beach. SO it's kind of rushed, and sort of like she's just telling the story herself. SO again, it's rushed. Sorry.

This chapter continues from chapter 4...

I was home, finally, after a long day of wandering through the nearby town. The experience had taken much out of me; I was not used to being out in the open for such a long period of time. I promptly made my way back to my room… formerly 2D-kun –I mean 2D-san's room. I do not have the right to call him 2D-kun anymore; we have not seen each other in years, and I doubt if he still cares about me. I have been searching for them since I had gotten over the initial shock of escaping the bowels of Hell, and trying to recover, but I still had a ways to go as far as emotionally recovering. It took about six weeks before I could make it from my room to the roof of Kong without beginning to sweat and becoming sore, hardly able to breath. After becoming used to that, I started to take the steps to build up my endurance, but this day trip, though it did not actually tire me, it still left me overwhelmed.

I was always on the lookout for any sign of clues as to where my family had disappeared. The closest I have been able to come has been from when I had been told where 2D-san was supposedly staying in a small flat, but when I tracked down the address, it was empty and looked as though it had been ransacked. Disappointed, I had left and kept my eyes and ears open for any more tips or news swarming around. That is why I go for walks through different towns often; it is where I occasionally overhear people talking about my former family and where they have gone or what they have been up to. Most of it has just been rumour though.

I had also read in a newspaper I found with a collection of other old garbage, dated from a while before I had gotten back, that it was suspected that Murdoc-san had burnt down Kong Studios to get the insurance money because he was running low on cash, and as soon as they were about to press charges, he had mysteriously disappeared. A short time after that, it had been reported Stuart '2D' Pot had also mysteriously disappeared and was believed to have been kidnapped. That had really upset me. My family had slowly fallen apart in my absence, and there was nothing I could do about it. That had made me feel helpless.

I hate the person I have become. Often, I reminisce in the old days of when I was so confident, outgoing and assertive… but now… I do not know what I have become. I am but a shell of my former self.

Trapped in my ramblings, I tripped over a pile of recently cleaned laundry in the middle of my room. Glad that it had taken my mind off of everything, I put my purchases down and scooped up the clothes, throwing them on my bed to deal with them later. As soon as that was done, I picked up my guitar and the new strings I had bought and began unwinding the old cords, including the two that had snapped. I wound the new strings in and tightened them, tuning the guitar perfectly in the process. I began to play a couple of tunes to be sure, and was rewarded with the beautiful melodies that danced through my eardrums and made me feel like my soul was alive again, as if it had been dead before, then again, it may have been. I closed my eyes and began to play the guitar small pieces of Feel Good Inc. and singing in the parts where normally another, much more beautiful and angelic voice should have been.

As soon as I opened my eyes again that album caught my glance. It just sat there, taunting me and virtually begging for me to scrutinize it and discover the mysteries it held. I ignored it for as long as I could before my thoughts began swimming. They pulled me deep under and left me breathless. Who was in the album… what had they done about a guitarist? Did they replace me? … Do I want to know? Why do they have pictures of me I do not recall ever taking… Am I crazy… What has become of 2D-kun? Does he sing? … Why does Russel-sama look gargantuan? That last thought found me looking through the case, staring at the oddities. I wanted to listen to the CD, but I did not know how to do so…

2D-san surely could not have remembered to take everything he was meant to before he left… he had forgotten a bottle of pills and his alarm clock, along with a few shirts I occasionally wear, so what is to stop me from thinking there may be a chance he had forgotten his old laptop? Of course if he did happen to have left it, who is to say it would still work?

I walked over to the mostly empty closet and began to look through the old boxes I had originally opted not to snoop through when I'd discovered them almost a year ago. The first held old photo albums, his flick knife, and his diary. I decided not to look through those, but I would keep them close if I ever found him. The second box held a couple of 2D-san's favoured zombie movies –even his collectors' edition of Dawn of the Dead was here. I do not know what was going on in his head when he forgot this, but then, he may have just been overdosed on painkillers –not that that is a good thing. The third box I looked through made me blush, but also broke my heart. It held my old Les Paul from when I had first come to Kong, and as well, it had my old stuffed monkey and my famed outfit I always had worn in public. I wonder what drove him to keep these…

I pulled out the three boxes and placed them next to my bed. It was then that I noticed the smaller fourth box. I opened it and found it to be full of packaging peanuts. I dug through them, leaving them on the floor, and was disappointed to find nothing but a black cord in it. I pulled it out to join the other boxes, but stumbled and slightly lost my balance when it was not as light as it should have been. I examined it again, putting it on the ground and pushing it onto its side. I perked my eyebrows when I heard the clunk of another object inside falling over. I looked again and saw a thinner box inside that had fit snuggly inside the bigger box, evading my detection. I pulled it out and took 2D's flick knife to cut the tape away with minimal effort.

I was ecstatic when what I pulled out was a large, square piece of plastic. I grabbed it and jumped onto my bed, next to the pile of clothes. I opened it up and silently prayed that it would turn on, and was disappointed when the light flickered then died on the screen. Sighing, I looked around and saw the cord from earlier lying on the floor. I snatched it up and tried connecting it to the laptop, jittering with excitement when it fit, and I looked to find an outlet. I connected the two and went back to the laptop, pressing the power button down. I heard it groan, coming to life, and the screen lit up with the brand and company name.

I had to wait impatiently while the dinosaur tried to keep up with me. It took what seemed like forever before it connected to the internet. Once it had, I immediately searched for two words: Plastic Beach. Looking through the first article, then one interview from Damon about the release and partly about its contents, I was thoroughly discombobulated. After reading this, I minimized the window and placed the CD into the laptop, hearing it rev, trying to read the new hardware. After a few minutes, itunes popped open and showed me the list of songs in the window. I plugged in my ipod and downloaded the songs to it to have the option of listening to them wherever and whenever. While I waited for the songs to be copied into the music library, I opened the search window again and fished for more information on this new topic of Plastic Beach. I looked through a couple small excerpts about the subject and a couple pictures; it was of the fabled beach itself, in all its supposed splendor and glory… It… it was just an enormous pile of crap, sealed together and turned into an island… where apparently 2D-san was being held prisoner. I was happy that Russel-sama had joined them, and was skeptical about him being a giant… Surely that was just a ploy created by Damon to send his message.

One picture in particular really caught my attention; it was in such full detail and had been taken at night. I saved the picture onto the computer and opened it up in another program, disconnecting from the internet in the process. I looked through it in a very attentive manner. I recognized a couple of constellations, but I was not exactly sure what I was going to do about it.

Having enough excitement for the day, I put the computer on stand-by and placed it on the floor. I stuck my earphones in and played the newly acquired list of songs, each one rendering me almost paralyzed as I was caught up in feeling the music. Empire Ants had really confused me; I loved the beginning, but then I heard myself singing, but I sounded so… scripted. There was no passion or emotion… Like the voice was some sort of machine. As I listened to the enigma, I began gathering up my clothes and folding them neatly, having no place to put them but inside my suitcase and I put a couple of things in the now empty box that had held the laptop.

I kept pondering that seventh track until Broken played and I was absolutely stunned. 2D-san –he sounded so lost… so lonely and betrayed… so utterly heartbroken. What had happened to leave him this way? Something terrible must have happened to him to leave him in such a state. His pain was seeping through the song and nudging at me, but I had no idea how to soothe it; I do not know where he is.

I listened to the remainder of the songs in complete concentration –sitting as though I should be meditating with my eyes closed. Eventually, I took it upon myself to make myself dinner, and then get cleaned up for bed. I took one last look around the desolate room before drifting off into my dreamless slumber, as I think it was anyways. The whole night, my head was filled with them, all three of them, and I could not stop thinking about the last picture of that island I looked at, with the stars. If I could just remember how to read them… then maybe… I… I could find them…

I awoke quite late the next morning slightly disoriented, but I did not let it bother me long. I quickly got up and ate, not quite sure what I was doing, but at the same time, knowing exactly what I wanted at this moment. Next I went through my suitcase and tried finding a suitable outfit. I chose a pair of uncomfortable baggy trousers, wore 2D-san's 'pink bunny says: shoot to ill' shirt with a large coat to cover it up, pulling the hood over my hair and a pair of oversized sunglasses hung from my trouser's pocket for now.

Once I was somewhat satisfied, I decided to ransack Murdoc-san's winnebago and try to find the keys to the Geep. It was hard to open the door, but eventually, I pulled it open and watched as the door fell off of its hinges and landed with a thud outside, throwing up dust which made me sneeze as I climbed inside. I looked through the entire metal deathtrap from the front to the back -where I knew the keys would be –but I could not help being curious about what he may have left behind. I overlooked much, not wanting corrupt myself with his… er… collections of thin colourful 'books'.

The last place I looked was his 'sleeping quarters'. I reached under his pillow and curled my fingers onto the thin metal my hand came in contact with, but my face scrunched when I also took hold of a thin square-shape. I pulled the key into one hand without looking at it, then held up the other blue package in front of my face. Realising what it was, I dropped it with a shudder, pulling my hand close to my chest as if it had been critically injured, and coughed to keep myself from retching –damn condoms.

As I looked down at the wretched thing, I saw another paper it had landed on top of. I picked the paper up carefully, making sure the vile package on top slid off onto the floor. I felt my eyes switching from each side of the paper I now held, trying to decipher what I was looking at. It was very well the most confusing thing I had come across in a long while. There were blueprints for an android body on one side, and then indecipherable instructions on the other. The only words I cared to recognize were my own name, and the word 'cyborg'… I flipped the paper again, and discovered a picture of myself tapered next to the robot body. The odd thing was that its hair looked a lot like mine, and I could not help but feel that this thing had to do with the pictures of me I do not remember taking, and the songs that I have never sung. I folded up the paper and put it in my rear pocket.

The rest of the day, I drove to the best bookshop I could find that had a decent collection of star maps. I bought a decent printer and the maps I needed. I spent the rest of the day on the laptop in my room with a bag of crisps and a jug of apple juice. I had my maps laid out, one of the oceans and the three others were star and constellation maps. I connected the crappy printer to the computer and printed out two copies of the picture of the beach with the stars in the background. While sipping on a straw, I took one of the copies and started to connect some of the constellations I saw with a metallic sharpie. Once the few I recognized were established, I compared it to the three star maps and deciphered the correct constellations I needed to look for and when and where they would be at a certain time. I checked the internet for a list of the constellation maps that showed their movement patterns, and I also had to look up the date for when that picture of Plastic Beach was taken, which took about two hours… I had to hack into one of Damon's private profiles on a very little known site to find the picture and date when it was taken… and the time.

I came to the conclusion that after I was done with finding this beach, I would never want to read a star map ever again, but eventually, I was able to piece together the information I needed and tried looking up the location on a search engine, but nothing came up. Though I was disappointed, and slightly discouraged, I knew this was the best information I could get and decided to go with it; it was all or nothing… and now would be my only chance. I scooped up all my blueprints, map, pictures, and folded them up, scooping them into my rucksack. The next few days would be filled with much careful planning and preparations and a long, long trip was sure to await me. Hopefully I was correct, and the stars would guide me to Point Nemo, but first I had to make flight to somewhere as close as possible. Shoving off from the coast of Britain would take me months to reach my destination. Before I went to bed that night, made difficult arrangements, but it was managed thanks to the plane I had access to; The very plane that had flown me to the Maldives and back. It was big enough for what I had in mind, but I had yet to decide whether I would regret it or not.

Within moments after waking up on the morrow, time seemed to fly by immeasurably fast, with me as its willing passenger, urging it onward, numb to the chaos surrounding me. On the first day of my planning, I got breakfast for myself, and went to a local store to buy two waterproof luggage bags, some new clothes for some expected warm weather, a flare gun I hoped I would never have to use, and a rope. After this, I went home, and continued my day as I would have had I not been planning anything. I took care of myself, and prepared for the next day. I packed up all of mine and 2D's old clothes, and all of my possessions. I had migrated my stuff from my old case, into one of the new ones along with my music, the laptop, and my new clothes. I sat on the case while I sealed it shut tightly. The second suitcase was big enough to hold my guitar so it would not get damaged in its regular case, which was not waterproof. Along with my guitar, I packed 2D-san's things that I had found: his movies, flick knife, picture albums, diary, things that were actually mine that he had kept, and his pain killers… of course, he probably had much more on him anyways. Once finished, I moved all of the luggage and my rucksack to the Geep and got inside, consciously aware that this was going to be somewhat of an odd trip, but also extremely overwhelming for myself.

I took the Geep to the airport, jittering with anxiety as swarms of people came to and fro, moving along into and out of the airport, from where I could see. In the passenger's seat I had a bottle of 2D-san's pills. I took one pill into my palm, knowing the potency of his medication, and cut it into fourths, popping one tiny piece into my mouth, then taking my luggage up in arms, my rucksack on my back as I went on the endure the torture of the airport, whilst the person I had acquired took my Geep around to the plane to load it up –I would be taking the beast with me. I was utterly shocked to find that the airport was mostly empty, and I figured I had only been imagining the hoards of folk, but grateful for most the solitude, and I was escorted to my plane, watching with curious eyes I saw the Geep was just finished being loaded, and the plane's hold was being locked up tightly. As I made my way to the plane, taking the steps up to the craft carefully, I knew I had to be the luckiest person alive today. Had I not access to something such as this, and no money required for it, I knew I would never have been able to see my planning through.

Once I boarded my private plane, I fell asleep, unawares to the world around me. My head felt dizzy, too. Maybe it was that pill...

Once I arrived in Sydney Australia, suffering only slightly from jet lag, time seemed to speed up once more. I found myself a small, temporary flat at a motel, and I continued with my planning, mentally preparing for the navigation required for running through the waters of the Pacific, from where I would be launching off into the ocean. It all seemed overwhelming at first, but after a couple of run-throughs, I knew it was manageable. And the next day began much like all the rest, but I knew I would have to gather up as much food as possible, so I planned a trip to a local market and brought back two week's worth of food, both perishable and nonperishable. Along with this, I got an ice chest, and plenty of water, and I knew how to get water from seawater as well in case of emergency. Back at home, I slowly moved everything from the Geep, to my temporary room. I stuffed the perishable food into the ice chest and sectioned everything into piles. After it was all sorted out, and I had fed myself, no longer having to leave my room for food, I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling, until I was unexpectedly pulled into sleep, anxious for the day to come, and what it would bring me to.

I moaned inwardly as time whirled me into consciousness once more, and I was aware of everything as I migrated yet again to the Geep. Everything must go, and everything was going. Food, luggage, and all. Today was going to be another bold day for me. I had abandoned my long time home for good, and I would be traveling over the curvature of the sea, to a place I wasn't even one-hundred percent positive existed, but I somehow felt that this was my only chance to find my family. Be it my last attempt, I didn't know, but if I didn't find something, I was well aware that it would mean death for me, but I didn't seem to mind. So I went along with it as I finally packed the last thing into the Geep: my very own self.

It took a while of driving, but eventually made it to the bay of an ocean where boats docked very closely to the shore. I pulled down my sunglasses to cover my face and watched warily as people came to and fro, not paying any attention to the ostentatious Geep that sat motionlessly, just off of the dock next to a few other parked vehicles. I scouted from the safety of the car for a small boat that I could potentially use, and with no luck, I got out to get a better look at the small boats and yachts nearby. I found one that looked promising, but it would have to wait until there were fewer witnesses and at a time it would be difficult for onlookers to see. For now, I took a walk along the collection of shops that often attracted tourists, and I stopped by one in particular that was more of a stand outside than a shop. It had an odd looking mask for sale, with cat ears and a cat-like face painted upon it. I bought it with the absolute last of my money, with absolutely no idea as to why I did.

By the time I made it back to the dock, it had become deserted and I knew if there was going to be a time for this, now would be it. I judged the distance of the small boat I had seen earlier, just off the end of the small pier. I pulled on my new mask and hopped into the Geep, placing my sunglasses on the seat next to me. I turned the key in the ignition and felt the engine roar to life. I revved it before letting the car lurch forward at full speed down the wooden pathway before us, and time seemed to slow down as I slowed the Geep and it flew off the end of the dock, landing roughly on the deck of the small boat. As soon as I could catch my breath and realise where exactly I was and what I was doing, I jumped out of the car and ran to the wheel of the boat. From the little experience I had, I was able to figure the wires and successfully hotwire the engine. As soon as it came to life, I steered away from the shore at full speed. As soon as I was out in open water, I stuck it on autopilot so I could rest for a few hours. I wandered into the small cabin and found it to look like the inside of a winnebago, small and cozy. I sat down on the large couch and took off my mask, placing it on the floor while I curled up on the sofa and fell asleep.

The next eight days came and went at an agonizingly slow pace. I was beginning to run low on water and I had nothing to really do during the day but sit and watch the ocean or sleep. At night I had to read the stars and make sure I was going the right direction and staying on course. I think I would much rather be fighting off zombies or helping Russel-sama with one of his taxidermy projects. Today was my ninth day out at sea and I was becoming wary of my decision to come out here. I was worried that I had read the maps incorrectly, or even made all of it up in my head and was just sailing off to nowhere in the middle of the ocean.

It was becoming harder not to be anxious when the only thing I have been able to see is the vast empty ocean and not a glimpse of land in any direction. I do not know what to expect when I get there, if I get there, or how exactly I am supposed to cope, but I believe I will be able to find a way. I am sick of sitting on this boat and hearing it creak as it slowly rocks back and forth during the night, crawling over the ocean and carving through the choppy waves. It was sickening the first couple of nights, and nothing has changed much since. It is made more eerie by the winds that howl by, pushing the boat so that it groaned more, and I feel as though I have been having nightmares, but by the time I wake up, I do not remember anything other than that I have woken up in a cold sweat, screaming. I do not know how much longer I will be able to handle this.

Now I was sitting on the deck with a pair of skinny jeans on, and a t-shirt with a small sweater –the lightest clothes I have worn in a very long time. I was relatively apprehensive about the recent wound I had received yesterday. I had pulled a chair over to the wheel so I could rest instead of standing the whole time, and I began falling asleep. I had used the flick knife to cut the wires when I hotwired the boat and every time I used the knife since then, I always put it back next to the wheel. I started drifting off and my head fell forward and hit the horn, making a terribly loud and vulgar noise which made me jump in surprise and the jolt made the wheel shake slightly. When the wheel shook, the knife began falling and I reflexively reached out to grab it, cutting my hand open in the process. Once I had cleaned off my hand, and the blade, I put it away in my rucksack where it would not hurt anyone anymore.

In my spare time, like right now, I played my guitar, memorizing the songs from the new album, or just making up my own melodies. It was one of the few things that kept me sane on this potentially disastrous voyage, but so far, nothing has really happened other than me slowly losing my mind, or what was left of my sanity. Two days ago, I took the same flick knife that I had injured myself with and began cutting away at my hair again in front of a small mirror in the lavatory. I only made it shorter and added a few more layers, which had my hair standing up on the crown of my head, and I cut my fringe so I could actually see my eyes, but I still have not gotten used to the much shorter hairline.

When I could see the sun slowly start its descent on the horizon, I decided to put my guitar away in the waterproof suitcase. I went back outside with my maps so I could start trying to read them as early as possible to make sure I was still on course, but I had frozen once I had stepped onto the deck, and I felt the papers being sucked out of my hands and swept away by the breeze out onto the vast blue. I was staring out, completely oblivious to the maps, with my eyes set on the most amazing and hopeful sight I had ever seen since after returning after my three-year absence.

Out on the horizon, I was able to make out the distinct shape of a mass of land, and as minutes drew by, more was revealed until it began to match the shape of the island I had been searching for. Ahead of me, I could tell that for the untrained eye, one would probable guess around one hundred miles, but it looked to be around 10 or so miles away. I would hit the shore in about thirty minutes or so. Now the sky was beginning to turn a blood-red shade.

I was about to adjust my course so that I was aimed perfectly with the land mass, but once I did, I felt a large push against the boat and felt something hit the side aggressively, causing me to fall on my side, looking around warily. I got up and rushed to the side of the boat just in time to see an enormous shadow beneath the water, and the tail of the beast sinking below the surface of the water with a splash. It was turning around again to ram the boat, so this time I ran to the cabin to grab everything I could. I took the rope up into my grasp while I pulled my rucksack onto my shoulders. Breathing fast and heavy now, I began tying the two waterproof suitcases together while the boat was rammed again. I pulled my things out onto the deck, then ran down to the engine room; terrified by the disaster I saw unfolding before me.

The fuel pipe had sprung a leak and the water pipe had been dented to the point of no return. I felt the room begin to shake from the rising pressure and was thrown into the wall headfirst when the water pipe burst and the high-pressure water pushed me back. I quickly established myself as best as I could and clambered back onto the deck hastily. I looked behind me and saw two large geysers shooting out from behind the cabin from the burst pipes, and the sight was one to behold. Everything was glowing red because of the setting sun, and the boat was beginning to lose to the ocean, sinking beneath its surface, carrying the doomed Geep with it. I grabbed the suitcases and threw them overboard, holding onto one end of the rope, I lurched forward and threw myself into the water after them. Once I had resurfaced, I pulled one of the floating cases back to myself, latching onto it, and –without looking back –began treading the water towards the only land available.

When I decided I was not going fast enough, I wrapped the rope around my good hand, and slid into the water so I could swim via breast-stroke as fast as I could, taking breaks every few minutes, but never stopping. When resting, I would simply pull my chest onto a suitcase and tread with my feet, kicking fast and hard without splashing around too much. The whole process was wearing me down quite a lot, and a short while over two hours later when I was around thirty feet away, I let the tide pull me onto the beach, feeling it push and pull, rocking me back and forth until I glided onto the rough plastic shore. Once I was there, I lay to rest for a couple of minutes, letting my heartbeat slowly return to normal before I slowly dragged my things along, trying to find an entrance to this foreboding place.

Once I found the sign labeled 'entrance' I was slightly discouraged about seeing I would have to climb up a couple of fleets of stairs, but I did not let it slow me down. With my suitcases in each hand, and rucksack now soaked, I climbed up carefully so I would not slip. I felt my eyebrows arch when I came across an odd looking pelican and seagull just sleeping on the railing, but continued on my way through the heavy-looking, thick metal door. I felt my heart beating faster with each step, not quite sure if I should feel excited, happy, or fearful. Once I stepped inside, the piles of useless junk lying about confused me, but at the same time relieved and slightly disappointed that no one was there. I pressed forward to a round base in the center of the room, and pressed a button on the wall next to a pair of metal doors on the concrete base. I heard the distinct moan of a machine descending toward me, and realised that this was a lift.

When the doors slowly groaned open, I took my luggage and trudged inside. I noticed a panel of buttons, each labeled accordingly to their supposed location. I read each of them from top to bottom, noticing a couple were crossed out, and my eyes widening when I read the one at the very end labeled '2D's room.'

Without a second thought, I pressed it –probably a few more times than I should have- and waited impatiently for the lift to descend. Noticing that the lift lowered a considerable amount, I wondered why 2D-san would live in a room underneath the water where the very thing he was probably most afraid of inhabited, but the thought quickly slipped away when the lift moaned to a stop, then opened slowly. I put my luggage just outside of the lift's doors and walked down a small corridor with only one room, where I heard a distinct, angelic voice mumbling…

No wait… he was not mumbling… he was… singing…