" Come Josephine…in my…fly-ing machine…"
They are so many. Millions and millions of tiny silver droplets…droplets…the droplets in your hair are frozen…and the droplets in your eyes, too. …And they are so beautiful, twinkling…twinkling down on me. Like shining eyes… eyes of angels…angels …welcoming the lost souls with warm embraces…warm, just close the eyes …and …
No! You promised him…you can't break that. …No embrace of an angel is so warm…and secure as…his. …I was so happy… so truly happy…the last hours. … And before I was dead…dead…broken inside. …I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT HIM !... So I can't close… the eyes.
"And it's up …she …goes…up…she goes…"
Nobody…nobody is screaming anymore… why aren't they screaming anymore…screaming…just a while ago you wanted them to stop the screaming…you didn't want to hear the misery …misery…and pain…. Just a while ago…but now I want them to scream again… then they are alive…alive … and I'm not alone anymore…you're not alone…he is here, with you…you're holding his hand…here with you.
…Yes, he's here with me… my saviour… my everything. …Everything is going to be okay…everything…he said that… "Do you trust me?" "I trust you!"... I trust him… trust him… "Alright. Open your eyes" "I'm flying! Jack!" …OPEN YOUR EYES!
Don't let them fall close…Don't let death win this match! Like he said…not like this, not this night… not this night…not this night…
"Come…Josephine in my flying…ma…chine."
He sung that to me… to me…when he let me fly…he cares for me…he cares for you. For truly you. Not for your beauty…not for your reputation …you're not his ticket to money and luxury…your not his trophy…You're his Rose…Rose…Jack's Rose. …I love him…yes, you love him….
" IS ANYONE ALIVE OUT THERE?" The voice was deep and distorted in her ears and she didn't even recognize it as what it was at first. A voice. The voice they all waited so long for.
Or was it even that long? She didn't know. And now the voice was coming back. But it was too late. As she slowly turned her head, attracted by the light that hit the side of her face, the little ice crystals on her neck breaking, she saw the small boat the voice came from and now she recognized the deep, distorted sound as a voice and for the first second she could only think of this one horrible fact. It was too late. Why only now? They can't hear you anymore, now. They will never hear again.
And then, in the next second, she realised what this boat with this voice, a voice that suddenly sounded heavenly, actually meant. Because there was somebody alive. She was alive. She and… .
She moved her hand, ignoring the pain, and searched his arm. She raised her head and with it Rose DeWitt Bukater raised herself, breaking again through the cold, dull pain she had been lulled in, the fog in her head clearing out and vanishing, fighting against her weakness. "Jack.", she whispered, her voice hoarse because of her frozen throat.
"Jack." She gently rubbed his ice cold arm, looking at his handsome face. His once tan skin was now snow white, shining in the darkness, it looked like it was out of marble, smooth, without a single wrinkle, looking so peaceful. His full lips were now pale and bluish. In his eyelashes, eyebrows and in his hair ice crystals had build and in the light of the stars these crystals were sparkling silver. The same crystals laid under his eyes and nose and were framing his face, also sparkling.
His eyes were closed.
He looked like some Greek beauty god. But it scared her, because it may have looked beautiful, but it also looked inhumanly, lifeless, too still.
"Jack. There's a boat" , she whispered again as a smile formed on her blue lips. He had been right. Everything was going to be alright now. They were saved.
"Jack. Jack!" She rattled his arm faster now. But he still didn't open his eyes and slowly the smile faded away and a horrified expression appeared in her eyes.
"Wake up, Jack!", she almost pleaded, rattling his arm with all her might.
The handcuffs on his wrists knocking quietly against the door was the only sound that answered, in the background the shouts of the officer on the lifeboat echoed in the night. Slowly her hand stopped the desperate movements and she just laid there staring at him, waiting for it to hit her.
"There's a boat, Jack", she whimpered as her head bowed down again.
It never came as one endless painful blow. It slowly trickled in, becoming faster with every second, more painful than endless.
He was dead. Gone forever.
The man who freed her, who saved her, in every way a human can be saved. The man who made out of the trapped, inside dieing, scared girl she had been the past years the strong, free and happy women she was now, both physical and psychical.
But was she still this women? She felt herself breaking again as a lonely tear made it's way down her nose.
Was she still strong, she asked herself, when she laid here, head on their hands, waiting and wishing to die so she could join him again? Not really. But a life without him, it didn't seem possible to her. She would break on the pain again. So she laid there, unmoving, asking herself why life was so unfair and the fog filled her head again, Rose DeWitt Bukater sank again.
NO! You promised him, Rose. It was his last will. You have to go on…but how?... How without him? …You can do that, Rose. And he is forever with you…You have a life before you…he wanted you to live a happy live. How can you not grant him that wish after all he has done for you…you can be happy again, and you know that…and he will watch over you… .
Happy again. She didn't know if she could be happy again. But she knew that she had to try, and when only because she promised him… her heart had broken in thousand splitters, but her soul was still one piece… the promise and his views of live held her soul together.
And with the knowledge that he always would be with her, Rose raised her head again, broke one last time through the fog and looked around.
The boat was farer away now, the beams of the lamps didn't reach her anymore. They were floating away. Her hope on live was floating away.
" Come back!" , Rose tried to call, but her throat was still frozen, her voice was to weak, it was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. "Come back, come back!", she tried again and again, but they couldn't hear her. The oars dunked into the dark water, pushing the little boat away from her.
" Come back!" It was hopeless. Now she could feel the unbearable cold again, she started trembling again as the rest of her life started to drain out of her numb body. But she didn't give up, desperately catching breath for a new attempt to get them to recognize her.
"Come ba- ." her scratchy voice faded away. Slowly she turned her head again, trembling, and stared at their hands, winded and frozen together.
His fingertips were moving.
Her breath was going fast and painful as her lungs protested against the numbing cold, but she didn't even feel the pain. His fingertips were making tiny strokes across the iced skin of her hand. Her eyes snapped up to his face, but that was still like before. A dead statue.
Only his fingertips were moving. First slow and then very fast she raised her trembling free hand and pressed it against his neck, searching for his pulse. And she found it.
Under her snow cold fingers, unsteady and weak, but there, his blood was pumping through his veins.
Rose felt slightly dizzied, as warmness filled her and her heart put itself together again like a puzzle which gave a beautiful picture. For a moment she forgot where she actually was, how much dead was around her, as a small laughter bubbled from her sprung lips.