Preface
1912, April
Rose DeWitt Bukater
I could feel myself fading away.
Dying isn't exactly pleasant, especially when you're ripped away from the one you love. I remembered one second, staring at Jack's handsome face, those sparkling eyes, so wide and new, and then I remembered being ripped away from him, the cold taking me away.
I was dying.
I couldn't hear, couldn't feel, couldn't see, couldn't smell, couldn't taste. Every sensation was gone- every little piece that I knew of me had vanished, in the Titanic shipwreck. I was gone.
And then suddenly I could see something. A light, or something of the sort. I wondered if this was the light people claimed to see when they passed away, or if I was just hallucinating, on the deathbed. And then the pain curled through my body and I could feel again. I screamed at the top of my lungs, finding my voice.
Whatever was happening to me, it was bringing me back to life.
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