A/N This is just a prologue introducing my character: - Rosa Darcy. This is
the story of her experiences on the Titanic. Sorry for the slow start, but
it does get better. (I hope!!) Please r&r, constructive criticism welcome!!
A/N2 Thanks to a suggestion from AbbieNormal182 I have rewritten this chapter to add a physical picture of Rosa. So the reader knows what she looks like.
And thanks to JeanieBeanie33 for such a nice review!! ^_^
Chapter One ~ Rosa Darcy
The seven year old girl found unconscious, lying in the rain on the cobbled streets, stood before her superiors a dashing healthy young lady of fifteen. The years had been hard on her, the weary lines creased her face, her eyes held buckets of unshed tears, and her tongue held many secrets that would never be uttered. She had seen an awful lot in her short life.
Rosa Darcy was a polite, quiet girl, more of a seen and not heard sort of person. She lived in the shadows, trying desperately to avoid any notice or attention. But that was hard, everything was hard in the work house.
She tried to block such horrid thoughts from her mind, she was here now, with a chance to pull herself from the gutter, perhaps the only chance she was ever going to get.
She tried to swallow the fear away inside her, she closed her eyes trying avidly to remember every piece of advice given to her by Mistress Larkson. She was sure don't close your eyes was one of them, and opened them miserably.
Her hand strayed subconsciously to her stomach, when she saw it, she dropped it to her side.
"We're going to give you a trail, Miss Dracy." The master muttered, his wife stared at him, clearly disapproving with his decision. But he was the man of the house, and the final decision rested on him.
He nodded his head. "Yes, we have decided to give you a chance."
Rosa felt a burst of happiness run through her entire body, never had she been called 'Miss. . .' before. She smiled in disbelief. This was it, her chance.
"Thank you so much, sir." She said, bowing her head. She tried to rid the accent from her voice, making sure to pronounce her words properly, as Mistress Larkson instructed. "I hope ye, you won't regret it." Her hands shook as she spoke. This was her chance.
"I hope we won't." His wife replied, coldly, surveying the girl in front of her. "You may leave, Kella will show you to your quarters."
Rosa bowed her head once more and turned from the room. She laughed with happiness as she entered the servant's quarters. The room she shared with three others was far nicer then the one she had previously occupied. But she did not sleep well, her dreams came to haunt her, pulling at her sleep and making her cry out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*
How she ended up unconscious while the rain fell steadily on top of her, Rosa was never quite sure. All she knew is that from the age of seven, she had lived and worked in the work house. The rooms were cramped, the food was little, and the labour hard, but Rosa dared not utter a word of complaint or disrespect to those who ruled over her. She worked her life under the shadow of the rod, in constant fear of Mistress Larkson.
The girls she lived with, too strived just to survive the life they had been given. There were a few tearaways, who attempted to run away, or break the rules. Rosa never saw them again. She was often told during her short life. "Be grateful for what ye get, girl." Girl, for eight years of her life, that was her name, her identity. She was Girl. And before then. . .she could not remember. The other work house girls had given her the name of Rosa, and she herself had chosen Dracy. It was indeed a depressing thought not to know one's real name.
For those few miserable years of childhood, if such a life could be referred to 'childhood', her naturally blond hair, was tinged with dirt, what would have been a beautiful face was grimy with dirt and pain. Her eyes were closed, and nobody dared look inside, scared of what they might find. She had never looked at herself in a mirror. The only time she caught sight of her own appearance was when it was raining, she would stare into the murky puddles, horrified at the reflection that stared back at her. Or peer into the grimy windows trying to decipher her face through the dirt. It is sad indeed to see a child who does not know how to smile. For no smile had ever appeared on that girl's face.
Rosa had kept her head above water, but she was so quiet that none of the other girls really liked her. As soon as she reached fourteen, Mistress Larkson started to search for work for her. Normally the children would go and work in the cotton mills, or factories. But every so often one lucky child was taken on as maid, a very lowly maid of course. Too lowly for a normal girl. Rosa was to be that lowly maid.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
And that was how Rosa ended up in the Dudley household. She was maid to the maids. And never saw the family again, after that first interview. That was the proper way to be, the housekeeper told her. Rosa was as quiet as she had been in the workhouse. Making no friends, but also no enemies. I mean, you cannot fall out without someone if you never talk to them. And so Rosa survived for two years, living below the stairs, skulking around like a cockroach hiding from daylight. And then came her big break. The arrival of little Amelia Dudley.
A/N2 Thanks to a suggestion from AbbieNormal182 I have rewritten this chapter to add a physical picture of Rosa. So the reader knows what she looks like.
And thanks to JeanieBeanie33 for such a nice review!! ^_^
Chapter One ~ Rosa Darcy
The seven year old girl found unconscious, lying in the rain on the cobbled streets, stood before her superiors a dashing healthy young lady of fifteen. The years had been hard on her, the weary lines creased her face, her eyes held buckets of unshed tears, and her tongue held many secrets that would never be uttered. She had seen an awful lot in her short life.
Rosa Darcy was a polite, quiet girl, more of a seen and not heard sort of person. She lived in the shadows, trying desperately to avoid any notice or attention. But that was hard, everything was hard in the work house.
She tried to block such horrid thoughts from her mind, she was here now, with a chance to pull herself from the gutter, perhaps the only chance she was ever going to get.
She tried to swallow the fear away inside her, she closed her eyes trying avidly to remember every piece of advice given to her by Mistress Larkson. She was sure don't close your eyes was one of them, and opened them miserably.
Her hand strayed subconsciously to her stomach, when she saw it, she dropped it to her side.
"We're going to give you a trail, Miss Dracy." The master muttered, his wife stared at him, clearly disapproving with his decision. But he was the man of the house, and the final decision rested on him.
He nodded his head. "Yes, we have decided to give you a chance."
Rosa felt a burst of happiness run through her entire body, never had she been called 'Miss. . .' before. She smiled in disbelief. This was it, her chance.
"Thank you so much, sir." She said, bowing her head. She tried to rid the accent from her voice, making sure to pronounce her words properly, as Mistress Larkson instructed. "I hope ye, you won't regret it." Her hands shook as she spoke. This was her chance.
"I hope we won't." His wife replied, coldly, surveying the girl in front of her. "You may leave, Kella will show you to your quarters."
Rosa bowed her head once more and turned from the room. She laughed with happiness as she entered the servant's quarters. The room she shared with three others was far nicer then the one she had previously occupied. But she did not sleep well, her dreams came to haunt her, pulling at her sleep and making her cry out.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*
How she ended up unconscious while the rain fell steadily on top of her, Rosa was never quite sure. All she knew is that from the age of seven, she had lived and worked in the work house. The rooms were cramped, the food was little, and the labour hard, but Rosa dared not utter a word of complaint or disrespect to those who ruled over her. She worked her life under the shadow of the rod, in constant fear of Mistress Larkson.
The girls she lived with, too strived just to survive the life they had been given. There were a few tearaways, who attempted to run away, or break the rules. Rosa never saw them again. She was often told during her short life. "Be grateful for what ye get, girl." Girl, for eight years of her life, that was her name, her identity. She was Girl. And before then. . .she could not remember. The other work house girls had given her the name of Rosa, and she herself had chosen Dracy. It was indeed a depressing thought not to know one's real name.
For those few miserable years of childhood, if such a life could be referred to 'childhood', her naturally blond hair, was tinged with dirt, what would have been a beautiful face was grimy with dirt and pain. Her eyes were closed, and nobody dared look inside, scared of what they might find. She had never looked at herself in a mirror. The only time she caught sight of her own appearance was when it was raining, she would stare into the murky puddles, horrified at the reflection that stared back at her. Or peer into the grimy windows trying to decipher her face through the dirt. It is sad indeed to see a child who does not know how to smile. For no smile had ever appeared on that girl's face.
Rosa had kept her head above water, but she was so quiet that none of the other girls really liked her. As soon as she reached fourteen, Mistress Larkson started to search for work for her. Normally the children would go and work in the cotton mills, or factories. But every so often one lucky child was taken on as maid, a very lowly maid of course. Too lowly for a normal girl. Rosa was to be that lowly maid.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
And that was how Rosa ended up in the Dudley household. She was maid to the maids. And never saw the family again, after that first interview. That was the proper way to be, the housekeeper told her. Rosa was as quiet as she had been in the workhouse. Making no friends, but also no enemies. I mean, you cannot fall out without someone if you never talk to them. And so Rosa survived for two years, living below the stairs, skulking around like a cockroach hiding from daylight. And then came her big break. The arrival of little Amelia Dudley.