Just a short fanfic I wrote in a very short space of time. It's not much, but I'd appreciate if anyone reviews, just for constructive critisism. Thankies.
Without Rose
"Goodbye mother."
The words tore at Ruth DeWitt Bukater's heart as she was jolted from her sleep once more. The cold look in her daughter eyes as she attempted to leave behind her family and future to die with a steerage passenger she'd only just met.
It seemed so unlike Rose.
But Ruth hadn't exactly been herself either whilst on Titanic.
She regretted her attitude towards her daughter and the upcoming marriage to Caledon Hockley. It was as though desperation had crept in and Ruth felt only the need to ensure the survival of herself and her daughter in a fashion which they were accustomed to and deserved. It just so happened that instead of saving them, she had pushed them further apart and had cost them both their lives.
After yet another nightmare about the Titanic and her now dead daughter, Ruth lay awake in her bed, tears running down her cheeks silently. She had never felt so alone as she did in the time between night and morning, after having had 'a haunting' as she called them.
"A haunting?" Molly repeated, putting her cup down roughly on the saucer, "whatever are ya on about, Ruth?"
Mrs DeWitt Bukater shook her head sadly at her friend.
"It is as though Rose is coming to me in my dreams and punishing me for her death." She whimpered, attempting to regain her composure.
Molly Brown was sitting with Ruth DeWitt Bukater in her breakfast room. It had been nearly six months since the tragedy of Titanic's sinking, and destitute Ruth had lost everything, including her daughter and her link back into fortune. She now relied solely on the generosity of the one woman she used to believe unbearable. The 'new money' she once looked down upon condescendingly had become her only hope, and she became quite grateful of Molly's assistance, both financially and emotionally.
"You shouldn't go beating yourself up about it, Ruth." Molly said, helping herself to a huge chunk of cake from the centre of the table, "Rose was a free spirit and she chose her own path. She died following her heart. I'm sure you must admit it was a better way to go than dying a miserable old wife to that Hockley character."
Ruth nodded, taking a tentative sip from her own teacup. She personally thought that Caledon would have made a fine husband. She did not understand why Rose could not see how wonderful he really was. Handsome, intelligent, well-respected. Rich. And quite in love with Rose. Ruth had thought them quite suited to each other. Not for one second did she believe Rose was not in love with Cal, and that she would act as she did on Titanic.
Maybe it was the sea air, she had thought. However, it seemed more likely the more she thought of it, that it was not Rose who had changed, but herself. Ruth realised she had been blind, and had not wished to see what would have otherwise been obvious. Rose was unhappy with Cal. The only time she had seen Rose happy on Titanic was when she was with that other man. The one she died for.
Ruth closed her eyes once more and sunk back deeper into her pillow, trying to will sleep, but seeing in the darkness of her closed eyelids the faint outline of Titanic, sinking into a silky black shimmer of iced water.
She shivered, despite being wrapped under three layers of bed sheets. The feeling of knowing her daughter was trapped on that sinking ocean liner, with no lifeboats left. No hope. And that she might have prevented it if she had been a more affectionate mother. If she had kept hold of her daughter in the lifeboat, and never let her jump out and back onto the doomed ship.
She was all alone now. Widowed and now childless. She longed to have her little girl back. She prayed with every fibre of her being that Rose had somehow made it off Titanic alive and well. Yet Ruth and Molly had searched everywhere, on all of the survivor lists and there was no Rose DeWitt Bukater. Caledon had searched the Carpathia's steerage deck but to no avail. It was highly unlikely that she had survived.
But she still hoped.
But she was haunted by her dreams, chilled by the words she spoke to her daughter in her last days. Filled with regret and despair.
Sleep finally took over Ruth DeWitt Bukater, and she hoped to join her daughter soon enough and never have to wake to the distressing memories of Titanic ever again.
END