STOWAWAY
Summary: A woman decides to stow away in the grandest ship of the century, The Titanic, to escape a shady past that involves an abusive life that is leading her to nowhere. While checking the holds with his old friend, Charles Lightoller, First Officer William Murdoch caught her crouched behind some crates. This is a conquest to come to terms with one's past and the up-tight gentlemanly rules of society. Can Mr. Murdoch and this woman do it all while not loosing sight of themselves and each other? Will the phrase "Love will prevail all" ring true for them?
You, my readers, can be the judge.
Historical notes: I do know that William McMaster Murdoch was married ten years before the maiden voyage of the Titanic. I am VERY aware of that. However, for the purpose of fiction, I shall be the wielder of history and any personal facts about the crew members will be slightly altered for your enjoyment. I am extremely strict about being historically correct myself. However, sometimes, we all just have to remember that fiction is for enjoyment, not research. Without that, we wouldn't have those fun historical fiction novel we enjoy so much!
Though, I give you this promise: I shall do everything in my ability to serve the memories of the heroes of Titanic justice and keep the personality and persona of those real figures as close to reality as possible. It is only right to respect them in that manner.
Please don't forget to review! I would truly appreciate it. I only can improve with your feedback. They are greatly appreciated in every aspect. It gives me the motivation to continue on this journey! Thank you very much for reading!
Disclaimer: Anna Lyn Connor and other unknown characters belong to me. Everyone else (who is NOT in the movie) is real. Any of the enjoyable characters of James Cameron's movie belongs to him, along with all of the legalities and technicalities.
Author's note (10/March/2009): The first and second edition of this fic was published many years ago and I was extremely unhappy with it. If you have already read this one, read it again, because everything was REWRITTEN and RE-EDITED.
Asides from that, please enjoy!
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15 April 1912, Time: Unknown
My chest constricted. My body screamed for air. I could see nothing but bubbles and people's arms and legs flapping fervently to get up to the surface. My sense of up or down, left or right was non-existent. Regardless of the which way I swam or tried to swim, I was back to the same spot where I'd started; with the same people who have fearful looks on their faces or those already dead, with surprise frozen on their faces like the polished wooden sculptures on the grand staircase. They didn't have a chance to realise that their lives were being taken from them.
I tried in vain again to swim in any way I can towards the light. The light that was from the Titanic and not God beckoning me to come.
I was too young.
I screamed in my efforts to regain my strength as life was squeezed out of me the longer I stayed underwater. The bubbles from my mouth blinded me for a moment as I screamed in any attempt for help. The sound was so loud that it felt like silence squeezing my ears closed. I knew I was crying. I could hear my own sobs over my loudly beating heart. Ba-Bump. Ba-Bump. Ba...
I promise to never complain about my age again. I was only three and thirty!
My arms flapped and my legs kicked strongly, but I was still getting no where. This entity called the Atlantic pushed me further down. Her hands grabbed at my neck roughly, choking me.
Scenes of the past five days played in my head like a some lame movie reel. The last five days on a ship they call, The Ship of Dreams and regretfully, it took me five days to understand why they would call it, The Ship of Dreams. The laughter that was echoing in the wheel house, the arguments in an assortment of manly voices and teases in my tongue sounded loudly in my head, as if my memories were teasing me about a moment in time I can never get back.
God, I didn't want just five days! Please, I want my whole life.
With him!
Only him!
"You're the best damn stowaway we ever had, Annie!"
"She is the only stowaway we ever had, Lights!"
No! God, I beg of you!
The Atlantic shook her head sternly at me as the darkness clouded over my head. My chest no longer constricted, but froze in its position and I was no longer struggling to breathe. My heavy, lead-like limbs pulled me down towards the dark abyss I no longer know where its bottom is.
A rush of bubbles passed by my eyes again, tickling my nose. But this time, the bubbles didn't bring me a sense of loneliness in the midst of all of these bodies: alive or dead. It brought me warmth. The touch of fabric was familiar. It was starched.
Comforting.
Loving.
Masculine.
I closed my eyes knowing whose warmth it was. It knew so well that it should be a sin.
Thank you.
"Will?"
"Yes, Annie?"
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