"Is she on the list?" I exclaimed.

The flustered deck steward checked the list a final time as I waited for the answer I so dreaded.

I watched as his eyes examined each page, searching up and down. Then they came to a halt. He bowed his head and murmured something indistinguishable.

I nodded, though I wasn't completely sure if I knew exactly what I was nodding about.

Thoughts were swirling about my head, and I couldn't make sense of one of them.

The steward walked away, and I walked across the deck to the rails. The sky was a very dull and daft gray, with streaks of cerulean blue scattered across the sky, like a brush on a canvas.

How could she be gone? It couldn't understand.

I had only known her those four days, but in those few days, there seeemed to be a lifetime. My heart heaved at the thought. I looked out at the water, staring hard at it.

I hated that cold water.

I closed my eyes and all I could see were the articles, "Titanic: the Unsinkable Ship," that wretched iceberg, and the people, helplessly drowning, crying out for any source of help. I could hear the bloodcurdling screams, and then the deafening silence that followed afterwards. I could feel the heaviness in my stomach as I watched the men sift through the sea of carnage. I could see the accusing faces of the women and children who had lost their husbands, their fathers, their brothers, their sons.

Why God? Why has this happened?

I opened my eyes, unable to endure it any longer. And at that moment, I could feel my soul ripping apart; the threads of my life beginning were tearing one by one, and I was powerless to stop it. My chest heaved; the pressure was so intense, I felt I could implode at any given moment.

There were so many beautiful moments. The way her eyes illuminated when they met mine, the way her warm smile met her eyes, the melodic sound of her laughter, and the simple way that she loved me. Now it all seemed to lie at the bottom of the Atlantic, along with that damned ship.

Tears filled my eyes, and I did nothing to stop them when they poured down across my cheeks. I stood at the railing, thinking back at what she had said the night before.

"I love you! You are like my Romeo! And we're, well, we're just a pair of star-cross'd lovers! But we won't end like them, will we?"

"No, of course not! Everything will be alright, you'll see!"

"Will you promise?"

" I promise!"

I grasped her hands in mine and pulled her towards me. I locked her in an embrace, and gave her my kiss. Our entire past was in that kiss, all four days of it. Our hearts one, our souls on fire, and it was us, only us.

I shook my head, turning away from the ocean. I knew in the deepest reaches of my heart that there was no going back to what was before. It was done, over.

I started walking, no particular destination in mind. I wandered slowly to the decks to offer any help.

The widows were sprawled out on blankets, sobbing into other's chests. Their children stood, just watching the horrific scene that lay before them.

Some women questioned the stewards, all with a desperate plea in their voice, just as I had only a little while before.

One woman stood next to the same steward I had spoken with, offering any details she could to locate her missing husband. "His hair was reddish-brown! Reddish-brown with a white beard!"

My eyes drifted to one particular woman who was looking out at the sea as I had previously did, that same numbness plastered plainly across her face.

She had fern green eyes, like her's. I felt a lump rise in my throat.

Her face may have been dead, but, oh, those eyes. There was more emotion in those eyes than one soul could possibly hope to comprehend in a score of lifetimes.

Her hair flew around her face in wispy strands. She must have felt someone looking at her, for she moved her head directly in my direction, her eyes meeting mine. We stood there for a moment and cold electric shock ran through me like a knife being stabbed my center. The realness of the situation swept over me once again, and she seemed to know. Yet, she turned back around, and I, unable to move, remained where I was.

After regaining some composure, I walked away from her, returning where I was several minutes before. I looked once again at the ocean, not feeling sad now, but a pure and absolute nothing. I suddenly wondered how it would feel to jump. The pain would be no more. I nearly smiled at thought, but the hard lines formed around my mouth told my muscles otherwise. Would it hurt? How long would it take for the frigid waters to overcome my senses?

I watched the waves rise and fall. "Were not enemies are we?"

She seemed to cry back at me, "Nothing more than mere friends."

I raised my right foot to the bottom rail, my left foot shortly following. I grasped the top rail more firmly and looked down once again to the Atlantic. I climbed the rest of the post and hoisted my body over the top, my eyes tightly shut.

"Harry?"

My stomach turned in the most awful way, and a wave of potent nausea washed over me, shocking me with the realization:

It was her!

I opened my eyes, and in the commanding shock, my hands slipped from the rail, and I descended into the icy depths. I threw my hands into the air grasping for anything or anyone to save me.

My last memory of her confused face dissented my mind.

And then, it was over.