So, since today marks the 100 years since Titanic hit the iceberg, I decided that I'd write my first story on the subject/movie. I hope you guys enjoy, considering this is my first story on Titanic (I've written for other things), and please review letting me know what you thought and if I should continue.
Out of all of the chapters, this one will be the most like the movie, because I think the way in which they meet is very special and intimate. The rest of the story will contain some scenes we all know and love, but mostly moments and story line that I've created. I'm sorry that this chapter is so short, it's just a little introduction; I promise the rest will be much longer and that the story won't necessarily be the one we all know, hehehe.
Also, if you haven't seen it in 3D, you NEED to. It's amazing and beautiful and delicious and so, so much more powerful.
Xx Nathalie
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She can feel the biting wind coil around her curls like serpents rising from the water tugging her toward their icy crypt. The tears prickle at her cheeks as they descend across the rosy surface, disappearing as they plunge from her chin into the never ending darkness.
She doesn't wipe them away, or even notices them. Her glossy eyes are sealed upon the vortex of black water that churns bellow her. She thinks how incredible it must be to be the Sea. So vast and endless. It fears nothing and stands so strong, everything that comes upon it can not compare.
Another tear washes down her porcelain skin. She ran and ran, but not even the Titanic was large enough to escape the world she's trapped in. The Sea is though.
More tears fall, and she thinks back on her mother. Oh! How much she once longed to please her! She loves her, truly, she does. But that love isn't enough to keep her floating. That love is the antagonist that has kept her from escaping all of these years.
With that thought, the hollow emptiness inside of her returns. She feels so, so alone. She can't explain the feeling, and it's not like she's ever tried - no one bothers to even notice that the smile on her face is a facade that she's mastered.
The numbing pain begins to spread from her chest into her throat, and the choking sob that she produces is in no way held back. Her hands grip the rail behind her even tighter, the once white knuckles now turning a low shade of blue.
The serpents hiss to her once more, beckoning her to jump. She looks back onto the other world, the lights on the ship emitting pretty lines of color as her vision blurs from the salty tears. She knows what's back there. People that she doesn't care to know, conversations that she doesn't care to hear. It's a world that she could never be a part of.
She looks back onto the Sea, the foam created by the ship leaving a ghostly trail in the darkness. From the darkness comes the fear, urging her to climb back onto the other side of the rail. But there's no point she tells herself, no one back there cares for her. She's just another rich little girl. Sure, they'll all shed a tear at her funeral, give her mother and Cal their condolences, but she would soon just be forgotten.
"Don't do it." The voice is low and for a second she thinks it was just her imagination, but when she quickly whips her head back onto the ship, she sees a man edging towards her.
Fear begins to run deep within her veins as she sees him coming to. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!" Her voice sounds alien to her own ears as it leaves her, and with it an urge to escape the situation.
"Take my hand," he says, creeping now more into the light. "I'll pull you back in."
"No!" The idea of stepping back onto the other side is more terrifying than disappearing into the dark Atlantic, and it's evident in her voice. "Stay where you are," she demands as she sees his feet continue to move in her direction. "I mean it. I'll let go."
The statement seems to have gotten his attention, because he stops momentarily. She continues to stare at him as he silently ponders what to do. She says nothing when he throws his cigarette over the rail, disappearing into the darkness, but the action alone sends a rivet of fear from her stomach into her chest.
"No you won't."
The statement causes her to scuff, but then the beginning shock begins to boil away, and with it comes a burning anger. "What do you mean no I won't?" she asks incredulously. "Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me."
"You would have done it already," he shrugs. The statement makes her brow scrunch for a second, as the simple truth behind it hits her. "Now come on, I'll pull you over," he says as his voice takes a more soothing tone, his arm stretching towards her.
She's too stubborn though, and even though the fear is beginning to grow more and more fierce by the second, she refuses to back down. That's what she's done her whole life – back down and obey every little order thrown at her. Anything she's ever wanted to do dismissed under disapproving eyes. But not this time. This is finally something that she can do for herself. The numbness that had cocooned her from the fear has now disappeared, and she needs it back if she's to do this, so with that she says, "You're distracting me. Go away." Because if he stays any longer, she's afraid that her will power will melt away.
"I can't. I'm involved now," he shrugs, his eyes never leaving hers. "If you let go, I'll have to jump in after you."
She can't fathom the idea of someone caring, or even valuing her enough to risk their life for her, specially a stranger she's just met. How could he do that for her, when she knows that her own fiance wouldn't? With that, an incredulous laugh escapes her. "Don't be absurd," she then says bitterly. And as she's reminded of the reason why she's even in this situation, she adds, "You'll be killed."
He doesn't say anything right away, and the silence allows her eyes to shift back onto the Ocean. It's still there, it hasn't failed her. Her hands then begin to feel tingly, either from the lack of blood flow from the tight grip, or because of the fear enveloping her. Because of him, the reality of what she's about to do begins to sink into her.
"Ever been to Wisconsin?" he asks, once again breaking her from the inner turmoil that seems to mirror the Sea bellow her.
"What?" she asks, perplexed by the seemingly irrelevant question, her eyes once again falling upon his.
"Well they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-fishing out on Lake Wissota – ice fishing is where you chop a whole-"
"I know what Ice fishing is!" she finally snaps, the anger and frustration within her that has been created by others exploding onto him. How dare he assume that she's just some spoiled, brainless girl who knows nothing of the world! It's this, exactly this that she wants to escape from.
"Sorry," he says, putting his palms up as if he's surrendering, realizing that he's pushed a button that seems to be very, very sore. "Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold," he says, moving closer, this time without protest from her. "Like that right down there," he continues, nodding towards the water, her gaze following his into the darkness. "It hits you like a thousand knives all over your body," he then whispers. "You can't breath, you can't think," he continues, his warm breath caressing the skin of her neck. "'Least not about anything but the pain," he says so solemnly, that her eyes escape the Sea and turn back to gaze upon his.
Her eyes comb over his faze, as if he's some sort of creature that she's never known existed. He's mesmerized her in the same way that the Sea had earlier, but his blue eyes have a brightness that she knows she would never find in the watery depths. "That's why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you," he finally says, as her eyes continue to be fixed upon him. "But like I said, I don't see a choice," he shrugs, taking off his jacket as if he honestly believes that the beautiful redhead will jump. "I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here," he pleads, knowing that he needs to make her feel as if she's in control of the situation.
"You're crazy," she responds, shaking her head through the sad smile that spreads across her delicate face. It's beautiful, he thinks, even though he notices that it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Come on," he smiles softly too, but his eyes plead with hers, "you don't want to do this."
"Alright," she whispers, as overwhelming sensations begin to build within her simply because of the way he's looking at her. All she can see is worry and care and respect in his eyes, and that's something that she can honestly say she's never encountered. Her hand leaves the cold rail and almost instantaneously, his warm hand saves her from the coldness as it tightly wraps around hers. His touch is firm, yet so gentle, and she can't help but look up at him with wide eyes.
"I'm Jack Dawson," he says, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
She smiles at him her melancholy smile, nodding slightly. "Rose Dewitt Bukater," she says quietly, her voice quavering as tears begin to yet again pool behind her eyes. She's thankful for Jack, because the height and realization of what she was about to do has now fully hit her. But she's also completely broken, because she knows that she will never be able to leave the world she's trapped in.
"I'm gonna have to get you to write that one down," he jokes, his blue eyes sparkling as she too laughs, but hers sounding more like an estranged sob.
Her feet slowly shift in place as the fear quit literally has her frozen. She looks down past the rail and onto the ocean, her grip on his hand tightening as the fear sends tingles through her body.
"Come on," he whispers, his voice causing her to once again leave the Ocean and come back to him. "I won't let go."
She nods, and begins to shakily climb over the rail, his grip on her hand never faltering. When she gets to the third rung, he wraps his other hand around her torso, and pulls her over.
When her feet touch the other side, they quite literally feel like jello, so when he lets go of her and she begins to falter in her stance, his hand quickly returns to her. "I'm okay," she shakily whispers, pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead, her other hand pointing in the direction of a nearby bench, which Jack begins to walk her to.
Now that they're on the other side, Rose can't seem to bring herself to look at him. The only emotion that she can feel is humiliation.
"That was a close one," Jack says, smiling at her as she slowly sits onto the bench, as if she expects someone to pull it from beneath her.
She smiles, but he can tell that it's one of those smiles that is only given in an effort to not seem rude. "You don't have to be polite, Mr. Dawson."
"What do you mean?" he asks, sitting down on the bench, his eyes never leaving hers.
"You must think I'm crazy," she says bitterly, tears beginning to freely fall as her eyes stay fixed on her shaking hands.
"No, not crazy," he says, shaking his head. "Sad, maybe, but not crazy."
She looks up then, her hand frantically wiping the tears away as she tries to make her vision focused and not blurry. Everything about him fascinates her, and everything he says and does surprises her. He goes against everything she believed to be true about people.
"I'm sorry that I put you in that situation," she says when she finally stops the tears. "I can't imagine how awkward it was for you."
"I'm not sorry," he says shaking his head. "I'm glad," he continues, pointing a finger towards her. "What I am sorry at though, is that you felt that this was the only way out."
She slowly shakes her head, her gaze leaving his as her eyes span the deck in front of her, as if there she'll find the words she's searching for. "It was just everything," she sighs, throwing her hands before her as if there's no better way or no better words to describe it. "It was my whole world and all of the people in it," she specifies, her eyes fixed upon the wooden planks as she recalls her life and the chains that hold her to it. "And I couldn't get far enough away from them. I just ran and ran, but not even the Titanic was big enough," she finishes, laughing bitterly. "And I got here, and I just thought, 'I'll show them! They'll be sorry!'"
"Yeah," he notes, chuckling even though he sees no humor, "'course, you'll be dead."
"Please don't judge me, Mr. Dawson," she begs, her tired eyes landing on his.
"Jack," he says, referring to the use of 'Mr. Dawson', and she nods politely. "And I never said that I was judging you."
She smiles slightly, not being able to help it as his intense gaze causes her to blush slightly. She clears her throat slightly, looking away from him. "I hope to have your discretion," she then says, her eyes shifting back slowly to him.
"Of course," he says causing her to once again smile, the intimacy of sharing a secret bringing them together.
"I should be going," she sighs, a melancholy smile grazing her lips as she looks toward the direction where the first class entrance is. With this he stands, reaching his hand towards her. She stares at it for a second before bringing hers to it, and when she does she can't help but bring her eyes up to his. He smiles then, cocking his head in the direction of first class. She smiles, and shakily gets up.
She thanks him and whispers a goodbye, looking back as she walks away, hoping to engrave his face into her memory. She knows that she'll never see him again. She could deduce from his clothing that he was from second or third class, and those where two worlds that were so far away from hers. Worlds that, until now, she never knew she could encounter. But that's how she felt, as she walked away, as if she'd just visited a world that had given her the strength to survive a little while longer.
And as she made her way into her suite, and felt the chains begin to coil around her, she tried to think of the man she thought she would never see again.
