Author's Note: We had a writing assignment in our English class yesterday to write based off a picture, and I got a picture of a waterfall with snow caps all around it. Immediately, I thought of this little one-shot. I suppose you all can guess that it's set after the Titanic. Enjoy, and please review! Oh, and if you're wondering, I got a 99.5%- Had like, 2 mistakes! Haha.

God Bless,

Sarah

Rose stared blankly at the rushing water before her. It fell downhill, hurrying down the fall with immense noise. Small droplets of liquid splashed her face- it looked like tears, though she hadn't shed those in years. Rose stepped onto the snowy rock with bare feet. The blanket of ice crunched underneath her, and she curled her toes against the bitter cold. She felt her body shivering almost painfully, and she was pleased to know that she could still feel, and comprehend. She knelt against a thick mound of snow, and let it envelope her legs up to her thighs. She stayed there, immobile. It had taken of these years for her to finally feel how he had that night.

"Don't say goodbye, Rose, not yet. You aren't going to die now- not here. You're going to grow old, het married, having lots of babies, and die an old lady warm in her bed."

Her memories of Jack taunted her. She could still see his crystal blue eyes boring into her own, urging her to live. She knew her warm tears would remove the chill from her pink cheeks but she couldn't let herself cry. She rested against the cold snow, feeling the ice burn her chest. This is how he had felt: lower body submerged in 28 degree water; lips blue. His body had trembled violently, just as her own did now.

She knew he wouldn't want her tempting fate in this way, but if he had died for her she wanted to be able to sympathize with him. Could this act of putting herself in that same mental place once more provide her some closure? She knew it couldn't, nor would it. He heard his voice in her head again: "Come Josephine, in my flying machine."

She remembered his hands holding onto hers as she stood on the front railing of Titanic.

"Up she goes," he had whispered, singing the sweet song into her ear.

Rose raised herself out of the bed of snow her legs had been dug deeply into and licked her cold, blue lips. She felt her hair cascade around her shoulders, warming her. She sniffled a few idle tears away and looked out onto the scene before her. Wisconsin was beautiful, and just as artsy as Jack had been. Even if he had never told her he grew up here, in Chippewa Falls, she could have guessed easily.

Rose turned her attention back to farmhouse she owned, just on top of the gill she had climbed down to get here. Her home wasn't much, and she was alone, but she had moved on as Jack had asked her to promise him. She had survived for him. And no, she would never forget.

She would never let go.