Author's Note: Hey there! So, I watched Titanic today after not seeing it in years. The story touched me so much; I had tears streaming down my face for a good 20 minutes. I knew that I needed to write something about it. This piece isn't much, just a short one-shot, which takes place the night Rose arrives in New York. It isn't much, more of an experiment with the characters and the story lines. Who knows? Maybe if this gets a positive response, I'll write more about these amazing characters! Thanks for reading, check out my other pieces, my profile, and remember to R/R! Every review or hit means so much to me!! Oh, and this was written while listening to Gavin Rossdale's "Forever May You Run," so that is your mood music for this one!
-LoveWillFindYou
I told him I would never let go. But this promise has proved difficult to keep.
Before I boarded the Titanic, I had considered myself a lonely person – someone lost in the world with no one to pull her back, nothing to tie her here. But after I met Jack, I forgot what loneliness was. The connection between us was too strong, as deep as the Atlantic, to be severed and the feelings of ever being alone were just distant nightmares, as though they happened to someone else. After losing Jack, I realized that I had never truly been lonely before. Lost, maybe, but not alone. It was only without Jack Dawson living, without my soul mate, the one who completed me when no one else could, did I realize what lonely meant. With these feelings, I would have flung myself off the bow without a second thought.
Now, lying on the rickety and insect-ridden mattress in this hotel room, with only the diseased rats scurrying across the floor to console me, I long to escape back to those days aboard the Titanic. The single happiest moments of my life all took place on that ship, and as Jack put it in his final minutes, getting to sail on the Titanic was the best thing that ever happened to me. Many would think of me as an unlucky person; I found love only briefly, and then lost it to the icy waters of the Atlantic in what is sure to be one of the biggest tragedies this world has ever known. I am left with nothing to my newly adopted name, and lonely.
But in reality, I am one of the luckier people in this world. Because, even if I only had the pleasure of knowing my love for a few days, I experienced more love in those days than most do in an entire lifetime. Most don't ever find the type of love I shared with Jack, yet I did. And for that, I am eternally grateful. Having it, even if only for a short while, is better than never having it at all.
Jack's easy laughter rings in my ears, the feel of his warm fingers in mine lingers in every nerve in my body, the sight of his enlightened eyes in every thought. Jack Dawson taught me how to live, showed me how to fly, and saved me in every imaginable way.
I let myself drift back to those days, just mere days ago, with Jack. I saw his face behind my eyes as my lids drooped into slumber.
Jack and I sit on whit porch, I in his lap, rocking slowly in a wooden rocking chair. His arms are wrapped securely around my e waist, a look of sheer serenity on his familiar features. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, we rock slowly.
I hold a bundle of blankets tightly in my arms. Just barely peeking out from the cocoon of cloth is a beautiful, cherub-like face. Her hair is wispy, but already a bold scarlet. Her face holds an innocence that could only be a reflection of my husbands.
The house behind us is small and shabby in comparison to my old dwellings, yet completely comfortable. The first real home I have ever known – besides the ship of dreams. But then again, anywhere Jack is, is home to me.
The only sound is the faint whistle of a summer breeze and the chirp of crickets, hidden somewhere amongst the tall grass. I watch as the sun descends below the horizon, painting the sky a vibrant shade of ginger, a rich version of plum.
"She takes after her mother. She's beautiful," Jack murmurs peacefully in my ear, a smile present in every word her speaks. His thumbs reach out and adoringly caress our daughter's flushed cheeks before repeating the action to my own cheeks.
Remaining on his lap, I twist and kiss him tenderly on the lips. He leans into it willing, enthusiasm pouring from each touch.
"I love you, Jack Dawson," I tell him as he touches his forehead to mine.
"And I love you, Rose Dawson," He replies, leaning in to kiss me. I felt the sensation of love galloping through ever part of me.
Suddenly, these cherished s images take a drastic turn. I am consumed in darkness, with not even the stars for light. I hear the sickening splinter as my world breaks into two, slipping below the surface and drowning. My teeth chatter, my hair whips in the chilly wind as I turn away from the ship. A blue hand clutches to my makeshift raft.
"Come back!" I shriek, "Jack, come back! Jack, wake up! Jack!"
His features remain still, his body motionless. His eyes stay shut, expression blank, mouth drawn into a thin line. Slowly, his body falls from the raft and into the depths of the ocean.
"Jack!"
I watch powerlessly as his body sinks and sinks, fades and fades, disappearing into the nothingness of the dark sea for all of eternity.
I awake screaming, clutching the azure diamond to my chest.
"Jack," I whisper, "I'll never let go," before succumbing to a fitful sleep, images from that last night replaying over and over.
