Chapter 1: Hells massage
(authors note: ok so yeah it never says what the note from hell is but you should be able to figure it out. Oh yeah and it's my first fanfic so I hope you enjoy)
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The screams filled the emty void as the Titanic faded into complete black abyis. Rose lay still on the slab of hand carved wood that was once a door into the main dining room, while Jack hung by his hands clinging to the doors edge for life. The screams filled roses ears as the last of the titanics deck disappered. She closed her eyes as her own scream strugled to crawl up her throat but her mind and body made her hold it back. She heard them. People sinking, screaming, sobing, reaching out for help, for security. But there was no one. She saw only the black of her closed eyelids. She opened her eyes to see complete panic, thrashing and splashing people, looking for help that wasn't there. Loning for the warmth that would never fill their bodies again. The scream in her throat grew to heavy for her to hold back, buut when it was released all that could be heard was a wimper. A peep, a meer whisper against the black background of agony, of pain. Jacks face was pale, lifeless, frozen in time. Rose touched his cheek with her cold hands, and he stirred, he looked in her eyes as tears swam down her cheeks.
"It's to late! Nothing'll be ok! It's over, JACK!! Why? Please…." Her voice faded into the screams an empty voice umong the hundereds of screaming thrashing boies. And everything was still.
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She shot up from the covers, the voices ecoing in her head in her dreams. "NOOOO!!!" Roses body shook uncontrolably inn the hospital bed. "NO this can't be happening!" Her eyes overflowed with tears in agony, "Where's Jack! NO it can't be true! It can't!" She began to sob as her baandaged hands clasped her face in the grib that could shatter glass, her eyes wide with fear, she knew she could never y see through them again, not through the tears, through the memories. "WHYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!" She screamed a blood boiling scream as the doctors rushed in taking her hands away from her face. Her mouth was filled with blood, her blood. Her teath stuck solid in her lower lip cutting at the flesh, peircing veins. The doctorse took hold of her thrashing arms and legs and strapped her to the four bed posts at the ends of the bed. The nurse held a needle to Rose's skin, and waited for the thrashing to subside, but Rose kept moving kept…… swimming… The nurse got her arm still and plundged the needle into the surfaced vein and pressed the suringe as the clear fluid flowd into Rose's blood stream. The doctors left but the nurse remaned. As her movement settled Rose began to open her soggy eyes and the nurse started calmly asking simple questions.
"What year is it Rose?" She began simple working her way to what happened.
"What?" Roses voice was a wisp of mist and was barley above a whisper.
"What year is it?" The nurse calmly repeated her question softly.
"It's 1912."
"What day is it?"
"The 15th of April."
"Thank you you can rest now."
The nurse left to join the three doctors in the hall. And before Rose fell asleep again she heard something that wouold haunt her for months.. "She still thinks it's April 15th."