A/N: Okay… You must be thinking "How does she not get whiplash?" because this is my THIRD story! And I'm still working on the other one… Fighting Yesterday … But I'm just trying to prevent Writer's Block and lost time ;)… Ideas keep popping up too.. I hope you enjoy this one! Okay, so my character is French but speaks English… Anyway, I tried my best to write the words the way they sound in the accent… so Sorry if it's wrong! Don't hate me and don't take it personally!
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Titanic… I only own the main character whom I made up…
The article on the New York Prophet read, "Over Fifteen Hundred Sink with White Star Line Ship Titanic." There weren't any names for who died, only the names of who survived. Joseph wasn't on it. Sure, I didn't wish death upon my fiancé… I loved him a lot but I didn't want to marry him, yet. It hurt terribly knowing he didn't make it. My father had enough money—enough to be first class—but I still had to wed, to strengthen the finances. What happened to "You're too young to wed!" or "No"? I guess it died…
"Charlotte, do you know where the prophet is?" My father asked. His rich French accent always echoed off the walls, even if he was whispering! "I 'ave it 'ere!" I say. My French accent is highly noticeable like my father's. I could never change it if I wanted to. "Well, bring it 'ere!" he said, impatiently. I rolled my eyes and handed him the paper. I thought he had a stroke when he read the headline. "I don't know if Joseph has survived," I said.
"You'd be pleased with that wouldn't you?" my father snapped. He wasn't nice, he was a business man. Answers right away… Fast life… That's all it was for him. I rolled my eyes again, typical me, then said, "Of course not! I have a heart… Just not for him," I said. My father grumbled something too low for me to hear. I walked out to the back lawn. We lived by the sea, so the breeze was intoxicating… Like being inside a dream or something… There's truth but no logic… (wink, wink! :])
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Peace. Freedom. Calm. Equal. That's what I thought whenever I was near the sea. I remember collecting shells in the summer… Picking up whatever I could find when I was young. I threw my shoes (which cost a lot… But I didn't care) into the sand, not paying attention to my mother yelling for me to pick them up. I walked to the water, holding the skirt of my evening dress up. The water was cold on my feet, but it felt nice. Some of the skirt got wet, and my mother had the undertake to send a maid out to escort me to my room to change.
"Why can't I walk in the surf?" I protested. My French accent didn't help with the weak edge to my voice. I didn't sound like I was upset… But I was. "I'm sorry, Miss. Mrs. Moreau's orders," said the maid, stripping me of my evening dress. I hated that. I always felt so exposed or violated. She quickly thrust a new dress over my head and on my body. The corset was bugging me, but I decided to ignore it. "I don't care what my mother says!" I snapped, raising my arms so Anna could put the ribbon around my suffocating waist. "It's 'orribly unfair!" I said, pouting. Anna only nodded.
Well then. Don't mind that my life's ruined! Hmph! I stubbornly thrust my arms down by my side to at least express my anger. Anna looked taken aback, but she brushed it off. I walked out of my room and walked back outside. "Don't you dare go in that water!" my mother scolds. Lucky… Her accent doesn't get in the way of her anger. "I'm not!" I snapped.
My mother sighed, rolling her eyes. Now I know where I got that motion… She could deny it all she wanted but I could always point out the things I did just like my parents. They hadn't realized how observant I had become… Good for moi!
I walked along the shoreline, but I was far enough away from it where it wouldn't touch me… Unless God decided to piss my mother off more… I wished I could be in control of my own life. 1912 is probably different from the future… I hope…
I continued walking the shore, moving up the beach as the waves got close to me. Night had begun falling. I hugged myself, keeping myself warm since it got a bit cooler. I wasn't ready to go back inside yet. Dinner began in a few minutes, and I knew my father would send one of his man servants out to get me… If not a maid. I bet he had already found me a new fiancé. It still hurt, the fresh wound. Joseph was gone and I would never see him again. He was so nice to me and he made the arranged marriage less awkward. He made me see the situation in a different light.
Now I would never get to be with the person I loved. I would have to let go. What if this new fiancé was even nicer than Joseph… Too nice and I fell for him? I would feel like I was betraying Joseph… Like I was leaving him because he's dead… Like I saw him as some lab rat you could experiment with and if it ended badly all you had to do was throw him away and start all over.
I walked back inside. The table had been set for four. But who—? "Ah, darling! Go have Anna help you into your dinner dress and meet us back down here. There's someone we want you to meet," my mother said. I nodded, but my expression was lost… Who could I possibly be meeting?
Once Anna had again violated me, then put me into my dinner dress, I walked down the large staircase that landed in the dining room. Our table was large enough to hold two large families for a meal… It was over a 7 yards long. "Ah, Charlotte! We would like you to meet Caledon Hockley. He's you're new fiancé!" my mother said, happily. Dammit. She would be happy…
Wait… the name sounded familiar—the list of survivors on the Titanic! The Carpathia crewman had taken names of all survivors and listed them on the front page. "Hello, Caledon," I said. He took my hand into his and kissed it. It was an act and I knew it. Someone this handsome always had a vicious side. Of course my parents would never see it. "Hello, Charlotte," he said. Oy. He even sounded stuck up. Maybe I wouldn't be betraying Joseph. I hope I wouldn't be.
We had all sat down for dinner, my mother across from my father and I across from Cal. "So, Caledon, what influence do you have in politics?" my father asked. Figures. He would talk about money and whatnot at dinner. I zoned out as Caledon and my father droned on about finances. "Isn't that right, sweetpea?" Cal asked me. Shit! I had no idea what he had said. He even had a pet name picked out for me! "Er—yes," I said. He nodded. It was obvious he knew I hadn't been paying attention.
"My previous fiancé, hasn't been identified yet. She wasn't on the list of survivors," Cal had said. So I wasn't the only one? "Oh, I can't wait for tomorrow!" my mother gushed. That caught me. "What's tomorrow?" I asked. The three only chuckled at me. I was serious.
"Why sweetpea. Tomorrow is our wedding!" Cal said. My mouth fell open. What the hell?
A/N: Okay! So read and review if you please! Tell me what you think! I have an open mind to negative comments so please don't hesitate!
