Note: I do not own the characters Jack and Rose, and there is a bit of dialogue taken from the movie.
I had boarded the Titanic with shining brown eyes, marveling at the size of the majestic ship – the unsinkable ship. Months ago, I would never have imagined I would be boarding such a vessel, the talk of the town for almost two years. I was young, in my early twenties, owning nothing more than a couple of books and little more than two outfits. But despite my appearance as a naiveté, I had seen and experienced horrors many a dignified woman could not have imagined. I had come from East London, where families struggled to fill hungry stomachs and beggars, whores, and thieves marched the streets with little or tremendous dignity in their demeanor. My mother, the only family I ever had, died of consumption when I was twelve, unwillingly leaving me with a series of debts and the tiniest glimmer of hope. I had had to resort to the same life as she, desperate for money with no choice but to join the game – to become a prostitute.
Night after night I let filthy hands explore my body. I was thrust against rough brick walls and pinned to soiled mattresses, skirts lifted and back arched in repulsion. Rarely were customers gentle, many wanting a quick taste in a dark alleyway or desperate for twisted sexual activities before returning to their wives and children. But never would I return to the life strutting about Whitechapel road waving in hoards of men. So instead of spending my money on sweets and books, I saved up my pence and shillings until I could buy a ticket to America.
I was ready for my fresh start, I had money to spare and I was going to make something of myself. I was different from the average cockney woman; despite my history I had intelligence and ambition. I was Mary-Ann Moody and I would climb to the top.
I stood against the railing and looked down to the smiling faces, jostled about by the rhythmic pattern of waving hands aboard the ship. Just below me I watched as a fancy black automobile weaved through the hordes of people and stopped close to the ship. A woman in a large purple hat and a white, tailored suit stepped out of the automobile. My first thought had been that she was another typical wealthy girl, blind to the world and only interested in trapping suitors and stitching embroidery. The woman, no more than seventeen or eighteen, rose her head to the ship and sized it up as though it were a foul vermin. She had certain arrogance about her, but it was unlike that of her mother who strutted in front of her as they boarded the ship, and I couldn't help but wonder what had affected her so.
I was there the night of their meeting. I was on deck when the woman rushed past me in a fit of tears the night of April 12th. My eyes grew wide as I watched her climb over the railing at the back of the ship. I could not place what had disturbed her so and what would have driven her to display such emotion in public. I myself had no problem with sincerity, but I knew the people of her class frowned upon it.
I was about to help her, to try to coax her from jumping off when I saw a man stood up and approached her. I squinted in the darkness and saw that it was Jack, a young artist from steerage I had met in one of the third-class passageways. He had been genuine and humorous towards me, commenting in a mocking tone about the weather and then giving me a warm smile as we had parted ways.
I watched in fascination as the red headed woman talked to Jack as though he were an equal. Strangely Jack removed his shoes and jacket as the chatted. And finally she took his hand and let him lift her from the railing. I gawked at her shimmering red and black dress, the clacking beads at the bottom drew my attention and I noticed immediately as she lifted her foot the dangerous length of the dress. Just as the thought spurred my mind I saw her disappear from my sight and heard her desperate screams of panic as Jack held her as tight as he could.
"Help!" I cried, running along the deck in search of a deckhand, but her screams drowned out my words.
Guards hurtled past me and I followed in pursuit, my wavy blond hair loosening from my bun and whipping behind me in the chilly air. I stopped and stayed hidden in the shadows when I saw Jack had lifted her to safety. My heart beat like a steady drum against my ribs and my legs quivered under my itchy wool dress. The terror I had felt a moment ago subsided and was replaced by anger as a group formed around the scene and Jack was accused of crime.
"Cal! Cal, stop! It was an accident!" The woman cried as her fiancée gripped at Jack's vest.
"An accident?"
"It was! Stupid really, I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning far over to see the uh…uh…" She made a spinning motion with her fingers.
"Propellers?"
"Propellers. And I slipped, and Mr. Dawson saved me…" Rose explained - twisting the story.
I smiled as she convinced them to believe her and Jack was rewarded with pats on the back and an invitation to dinner.
When the crowd left and Jack was alone with his cigarette I wondered about the glint that reflected in both his and the woman's eyes. I had never known true feelings between a man and woman, only lust. I moved to where the woman had fallen as Jack sat on a bench and released white smoke into the black sky. I looked down to the churning blue ocean, foaming into a white and leaving a train in the water. In the distance the sky and the water met in a dark line, barely visible and melting into each other as they were one. I sighed and gazed at the stars, faraway twinkling lights created a maze of constellations. It was the clearest night I had ever experienced, away from the sour stench of London and smothering gaslight fumes. I breathed in the fresh air and felt the salty spray on my face. When I turned around I saw that Jack was behind me.
"Stunning, isn't it?" he commented, his light blue eyes scanning the scene.
"Very." I nodded, enjoying the sound of his American accent.
"Mary-Ann, is it?" He confirmed.
I almost felt something of a heat crawl up my neck at the sound of my name playing on his lips.
He leaned on the railing and dragged on his cigarette, offering me a puff. I accepted and felt the moist paper at my lips as I inhaled the tobacco.
"Jack?" I asked as I handed it back to him.
"Mm, hmm?"
"Who was that woman you saved?"
He smiled. "Her name is Rose. Rose DeWitt Bukater. She's beautiful, isn't she?"
I nodded and remembered her pale skin in the moonlight and her tearful blue eyes. She really was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful woman I had seen.
The next time I saw them together was at the party on April 13th. I was dancing in the middle of the room, smoke poured from pipes and cigarettes flooding the room in a hazy glow. Electric lights lit up the tables and dance floor while upbeat bagpipes, fiddles, and drums played in the background. I was happy, being twirled by Sid, a man I had met not a moment ago. The party whirled around me, a spinning mesh of colours and faces. Couples around me danced the jig and hopped breathlessly in an unpracticed pattern. Drunken roars erupted from tables and each and every person was filled with remarkable spirit.
My sweaty hands clasped with Sid's we moved together, cheeks flushed and hair wild. I looked into his laughing, unshaved face and hair the colour of a ripe orange. This was the most fun I had had in a long time.
When the song ended we grabbed a beer and I gulped the foamy, amber mixture as though it were water. I slammed the glass on the table and looked up to see Rose and Jack dancing together on a platform, tapping and turning. How odd she looked among us in her satin, embroidered dress - diamonds draping her neck and hair. And yet – with her rich auburn curls sticking to her face, smoking, drinking, and shoeless she seemed to fit in as though she were born to us, to our class.
"What are you plannin' to do in America?" Sid shouted above the noise.
I shrugged, "At the moment, I have no idea. I figure that by the time the ship docks, I'll know."
"Well if you find yurself at a loss, come to me. I'm opening me own restaurant." He offered.
I nodded my thanks, keeping his proposal at mind.
"Come on," He grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the twisting maze of bodies. A lineup had started so we attached ourselves to the end, one hand clasped in Sid's, the other to another woman I had noticed earlier with striking black hair. The leader pulled us around the room as though we were a slithering serpent. The music beat in my ears blocking out the noisy laughs and cries. My heart beat against my ribcage and echoed through my body, while my lungs pumped and pumped pushing me forwards as we joined in a circle. Across from me were Rose and Jack, having as great a time as everyone else.
The music stopped and became a slower song, many retiring for a drink break. Sid and I sat our table and I saw Jack walking over to our table, Rose close behind.
"Sid, Mary-Ann. I'd like you to meet Rose." Jack said taking a seat and sipping Sid's beer.
"Pleasure to meet you," Rose said cordially, sitting beside me and shaking both our hands.
"Mary-Ann actually witnessed your little show last night." Jack explained.
"Did you?" Rose laughed. "Please excuse me for that, it was quite unnecessary."
"Don't worry about it. If anyone understands unnecessary, it's me." I told her, gawking at the diamonds in her hair.
Rose noticed. "Do you like them?"
I nodded.
"I think they're dreadful."
"What? But they're gorgeous!" I protested, wondering once more about this mysterious first class woman.
"They're not sentimental. It's my mother's taste, of course." She explained.
I looked over to Sid to see what he thought of this, but he was in conversation with Jack.
"Do you have a cigarette?" Rose asked.
I shook my head. "Sid, got your stash on you."
He threw me a lighter and a package of cigarettes. I lit Rose's and my own, relaxing as I inhaled.
"Tell me about yourself, Mary-Ann. What's it like being a woman of…" She trailed off.
"Third class?" I confirmed.
"My apologies, that's not the first time I've insulted someone about their… status."
"Don't worry about it." Something about Rose made me want to trust her, so why not tell her the whole story?
So I did, I told her of my mother's death, struggling to make money and to afford a home. And she listened intently, not apologizing like many people did when they couldn't give a damn.
"That's quite a story Mary-Ann, have you ever thought about writing it down? The way you speak is exceptional compared to some I've met from East London."
"I read a lot; I didn't want to become another typical whore." Then I thought about what she said, perhaps that's what I would do. I could become a writer, scribbling away in my New York flat, stopping by at Sid's restaurant and lending a hand for extra money.
"Think about it, I know I'd be one of the first in line to buy it!"
I knew what I would do; the moment the ship docked I would set out to buy bundles of parchment and ink. Coop myself up, crouch over a second hand desk and write.
The next night was a disaster, as though the world itself were ending. The bow of the ship was already heavy with water and it was quickly creeping up to take over the whole boat. Men and women shoved me left to right, desperate to reach safety. The screams would not stop and neither would the music. The musicians played tunes to keep us calm, but they only distressed me more. I ran along the angled deck among swarms of black coats and hats. Everywhere I looked the life boats were filling up and I was losing time. Once or twice I saw a flash of red and blond hair and knew that it was Rose and Jack – searching for a boat or anything that would help them survive together.
Earlier in the night I had been sleeping peacefully in my bed, thinking of how I would write my story. I woke up to an insistent shaking; there was a low rumbling and the sound of iron crushing. I whipped out of my bed and into the corridor where dozens of heads poked out from doors. Nothing happened and the quivering stopped. I began to chat with my roommates, wondering if we had hit something. Minutes later, a deckhand walked down the hall. Instructing us to get our lifejackets ready but not to panic – it was nothing serious. So my friends went to get a drink, I refused. I had been exhausted that day and needed rest. The next time I woke, my cabin was filled with about three inches of water. By the time I reached the deck, everything was already chaos.
A gunshot echoed loudly behind me, followed by shouts and cries. The lights of the ship flickered and I looked back and saw the dark, frigid water circle around the first smoke stack.
"Sid! Sid!" My voice was hoarse as I spotted my friend.
He turned to me, green eyes flashing wildly. "We've got to get to the stern." He grabbed my hand and I saw that none of the lifeboats were left.
We clawed up the wooden deck and people flew past us down into the icy black. Many jumped from large heights, flying to their deaths and slapping the murky mass.
"We may die, Sid! And I'll never get to New York!" I wailed as we paused and grabbed a pole for support. The ship was already at a forty five degree angle and fighting seemed almost pointless.
"Mary-Ann." He grabbed my cheek with his free hand. "Don't think like that, don't talk like that. We will survive and when we get to America I'm goin' to buy you a nice hot cuppa chocolate, coffee, or tea. What ever you want!"
I smiled at his optimism but the sickening feeling in my stomach would not lift. My lifejacket was tight but of little comfort and I knew if we wanted to live we would have to reach the stern. He gave my hand a squeeze and we continued our trek, grabbing the railing and anything we could. We had almost reached the top when I saw a man fly through the air, bump a barrier, and land with a crack on the wood in front of Sid. I reached for my friend but it was too late. The man had sent him flying back down to where we had come.
"Sid!" I howled as he scrabbled at the floor, eyes wide with panic. "Sid, come back. Grab something." Tears poured down my cheeks as I watched him shout something incoherent before he slid soundlessly beneath me into the ocean.
"NO!" I raged punching my fist into the steel post I was holding. I slapped and kicked at the Titanic as though the death of my friend were its fault. But I knew I would have to continue. And so, adrenaline rushed through me and I reached the top just as the ship cracked in two and all electric power went out. We soared through the air, crushing hundreds of bodies as we hit the water. Franticly, I climbed over the railing as the ship rose again and I looked down into the bubbling, unstoppable water. The Titanic groaned as though it were in pain, the metal grinding and wood cracking.
To my right I saw Rose and Jack, lips purple and teeth clattering as they looked down to their fate. Slowly and yet too quickly the rear of the Titanic lowered to the ocean until we were no more than a yard away. I took a deep breath of dry night air and plunged into the frosty depths…
I now hold to the floating wood of a dining chair, one leg missing and fractured down the middle. All around me the world is motionless, rarely is there a movement in the water and I know that more than half of the people are dead. Their faces are white and bloated with water, lips black and hair frozen to cracking. I can see Jack and Rose together, whether they are alive or not, I do not know.
I am past shivering for my joints are unmovable, my legs are numb in the water and I wonder if I will ever move again. I can see my dreams slipping away, as far from me as the Statue of Liberty. The green, towering woman I so desperately want to see. I think of my stay on the Titanic, dreaming of a time not long ago where I was toasty and joyful. How long ago was it? I had lost track of time the moment I floated from the crowd of writhing bodies and begun my wait.
So now I wait, thinking about Rose and Jack. I wonder if their love can conquer this, if they will survive. I slowly, barely turn my head to look at them. Rose lies on her back on a piece of wood while Jack holds her hand, his body in the water like me. Are they alive? I strain my ears when I hear a soft voice.
"Come Josephine, in my flying machine. Going up, she goes! Up she goes…"
It's Rose, she's singing! And I know now, they will be together forever, alive and happy. That is my last thought before my shuddering breath stops and the water fills my lungs. Before my dreams slip away and I die, alone and never knowing true love.
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