The next few days flew by like minutes, and thanks to the retrograde amnesia kicking in, I was no longer Dimitri Davenport. I will never be Dimitri Davenport again. I understood my place on the River of Styx. All of ours. Our family, floating toward a new world unseen.
Even though the cabins were separated by s*x, our father allowed Number 4 (Aries) and I to rest together during nap time in the day, but never at night. Father says that the darkness of night brings about the devil and will glamour me, spiraling my desires into disloyal territories that he cannot allow. Anyone caught in that spell will be thrown overboard, and reborn in the River of Styx.
That's what happened to Number 6, AKA Patchy beard man, early on when I was in my coma for three days. Number 6 didn't take well to the
