Disclaimer- I don't own the Titanic, or anything on the ship. Just my characters, and idea. (Save for the related characters from the movie.)
A/N- First off I just want to say thank you for reading. Also, for the people who have already read this, I decided to delete this story and fix the errors. (Maybe throw in different things.) YEAH! Have to be happy about that. Happy reading!
April 3, 1912
My heart is racing quicker than the engine of our motorcar! I finally arrive home today from a long year of boarding school. It's hard to think I've been gone for an entire year without seeing my beloved town of Southampton, and my family. They of coarse did send letters of how my little brother Edward is growing up, and how my father is progressing in his work.
At this very moment as I'm writing in this journal, (a gift from grandmamma) I'm looking at the familiar scenes that mark the way to home. The tunnel of oak trees, that curve so perfectly inward, there is scarcely room for sunlight to come peaking through. To my left I see our lake; the clear sapphire color reminds me of all the summers my family and I spent there.
Oh my lucky stars! I see the manor! I wish to write more, but I can't control my excitement! Maybe I can write later tonight. -For now, farewell.
April 3, 1912. Later
We had the most wonderful supper tonight. Libby, got to cook this evening. (Olga is really our cook, however, Libby cooks better.) She made fried goose, peppermint cakes, rack of lamb, sweet potatoes, French tarts, biscuits, and my favorite, vanilla ice cream. Mother says Libby had been slaving away outside for two days just to make it.
Speaking of mother, she was the first to greet me. It was quite a scene seeing her scarlet hair flapping about in front of her face, wearing nothing except her crossest, those awful pants that go to your knees, and her brightly colored orange stockings she loves so much. Honestly, she looked like a wild women. If any of the neighbors saw, they would have died in fright.
She grasped me into a tight bear huge. It was such a squeeze, I felt like my insides would burst. She started getting all teary eyed when she was squeezing me, and it spread like a disease, because I began to get teary eyed too. I smiled looking up into her two different colored eyes. (One sea green, the other indigo.)
Then my father came out. Everyone says I look like him more than my mother. I believe it is because we have the same features; Our hair is both dirty blond, we both have hazel eyes, and our noses look like a ski jump. He took me from my mother's arms and grasped me into his. The sent of coffee filled my nose.
The last person to come out was Edward, and his nurse, Lucy. I call her Lulu, because she was the same nurse I had when I was little. Edward, being that he never saw me since he was the age of one (I did doubt he would ever recognize me), was shy for his age. Most of the children I meet two years of age were very talkative. However after we got acquainted he started to get use to my company.
- It's rather late. It's 11:07 and I'm tired from my journey. I will try to write tomorrow, but I doubt it, because grandmamma and Father Joseph is coming for a visit.
April 4, 1912
How boring father Joseph is. HOW boring he is. I usually don't repeat myself, but he is an exception. All he ever talks about is philosophy, God, and politics. I know I shouldn't talk about him like this… if you only know him like I do dear journal. When he was over I guess just listening to himself made him bored, because he voice started to trail off. The next thing I know he is falling asleep on my shoulder; he was even drooling! When I tried to move, I woke him up and he continued on with his conversation like nothing happened. I started to giggle. Grandmamma only hushed me.
Grandmamma. All she cares about is etiquette. (Well mostly. She does talks about it a great deal.) I really do adore her though. I'm even named after her, Winifred Josephine Morrill. Edward shares the same name as my grandfather. Edward Francis Morrill the II.
Mentioning Edward, a funny thing happened between him, and I. Yesterday after Father Joseph left, (thank goodness he left) Edward took me by my hand, and dragged me up the wool carpet stairs. It was awfully hilarious watching him climb up stairs. He is over weight for his age, and has sausage like fingers. (Unlike me who is rather skinny for a person of twelve years.) Edward reminds me of a pig in a way, except with orange fuzz growing out of the top of his head.
Anyway, he kept stumbling over every other step. His trousers are humongous on him, so he kept stumbling on them. Thump… thump. I almost died with laughter. Even once or twice he actually squealed. (Giggle). Eventually we got to his nursery. I couldn't believe how many toys he had, or the beauty of the his room.
The room was once my father's old storage room, but now my parents painted the walls like it was an ocean. I was afraid if I got to close, the waves would gobble me up whole! On top of the waves a pirate ship battles the British navy.
On the south wall, an island on the water. My brother's cradle right under it. When I entered the middle of the room, I turned around to look at the wall I came in from.
The doorframe carved with dolphins, treasure chests, pirate ships, and swords. The wall painted like a forest, where mystical creatures took residence. In the corner there a beautiful hand carved Shetland pony rocking horse. The north wall, a chest bursting with countless number of toys. The window in Gothic style; Stained-glass, with a picture of a harbor, all sorts of people shopping, white horses pulling grand carriages, and seabirds, dogs, and cats.
In front of the east wall (the ocean scene), there is Edwards pram, wardrobe, and Lulu's bed. How I wish my room was this attractive.
The room is glorious; but the most pleasant thing was just being with Edward, and playing games like Napoleon, and the war. The best game so far was pretending to be pirates. I'm so glad Edward let me into his games.
-Wish to write more dear journal, but grandmamma is calling me for lunch. Till then.
April 4, 1912. Afternoon.
Libby got to cook again. She out did herself this time. Roasted pig, black bird pie, tossed salad, salmon, raspberry tea, angel food cake, chocolate cookies, dark chocolate candies, and pastries with peppermint cream! How delicious they all were. Even when I was going downstairs for lunch did my mouth begin to water when I smelt the aroma of blackberries being cooked. Ahh….. I can still taste the angel food cake when I close my eyes. Lunch was marvelous, but the greatest part was when mother said father had a surprise for us when he comes home tonight. I can't wait!
-Disturbed again. Mother wants to see me. Adieu.
April 4, 1912. Evening.
Dearest Journal, I'm sorry that I have not written for five hours, but I have the most brilliant news! My father who works for the "White Star Line", received eight FIRST CLASS tickets for the R.M.S Titanic from the owner! We are to leave two days from now! Oh my lucky stars! I'm so excited!
This will be my second time on an ocean liner. My father says that no other ship could match it's speed, or luxury. That's probably why my mother gave me these shoes, and traveling gown when she asked to see me this afternoon. How lovely the gown is!
It's a lovely shade of cherry wood. The brass button jacket fits like a glove, while the skirt goes down to my ankles. (The collar on the jacket goes all the way down to the chest, so I'll have to wear my navy blue collar shirt with it.) There is so much to pack, and do before and after dinner, I must go.
April 5, 1912
Can you believe it! We are to leave tomorrow! Oh my lucky stars! It's really hectic around here. All the servants are running around the house with laundry baskets and suitcases. Poor Lulu, our leading house maid Agatha was running down the hallway with new linens for my mothers bedroom, and Lulu was just walking out the door frame. BAM! Agatha went right smack into Lulu. You should have seen the linens go flying in every which direction. Lulu, her hair dull and gray was coming out of the tight roll upon her head, was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her bright rosy cheeks.
What happened to Agatha you might be asking dearest journal? Well, she went rolling down the stairs, all the way to the platform part. She banged against the wall and came to a sudden halt. The impact was so great, that the portrait of my great grandma Francine Ann Bell-Morrill fell from the wall.
But do not worry dearest journal, the portrait and Agatha were not harmed. Actually, she was laughing harder then Lulu! Only difference was the snorting. Blond hair came out of her braided pigtails, and her double chin was moving to the beat of the snorts. It was awfully funny.
The linens are all cleaned up so this tiny incident is now forgotten by the rest of the house. Except me, I'll remember it for a life time. And of tiny incidents Eddy, (I'm calling Edward Eddy now) and I put a worm in the privy. (Privy- the place where you have to let go of your human waste.)
It was mo- Oh HUH! I think they found the worm. I have to go. Father is calling me. Have to go.
April 6, 1912.
Got a good licking from my fathers belt. It hurts to sit down. I couldn't finish writing, for as a punishment for putting a worm in the privy, I had to get the worm out, and put it back where I found it. Then I had to pack my own cloths and help scrub the dishes after supper.
Even though I got in trouble, my mother even thought it funny. She said, "Winifred Josephine Morrill how could you do such an unthinkable thing?" She then kissed my cheek and said, "That was the most cleverest prank I've ever seen. Scaring Mrs. Plum half to death. How did you ever think of it?"
-Oh my I just remembered! Do you know what day it is? We're leaving today! In about 9 hours from now really. It's 5:34 a.m.. I promise to write later today, but for now I'm going back to bed.
April 6, 1912. Afternoon.
Dearest journal, I can't control my excitement! We're pulling out of the driveway! Mother invited Libby, and Agatha with us. Their talking quietly among themselves. Edward is being fussy about the bowtie father got him, so Lulu is trying to hush him about the darn thing.
Father took a different motorcar, so I get to sit in the front seat. - I'm so sorry dearest journal, but I do not wish to write right now. Farwell.
April 6, 1912. Later
Oh my lucky stars, oh my lucky stars! We're here! It's even more beautiful then the last time I came. We're staying at THE GRAPES INN. It's exactly 0.2 miles just outside Southampton. Mother said she'll take us to the dock tomorrow to see the ship. I can't wait! I have to go right now, because there is so much to unload.
April 7, 1912. Afternoon.
Unloading a motorcar sure takes a long time. I couldn't write at all, and I have very little time to write now, for mother is going to take us to the dock. -She is calling. I promise to write about the dock later.
April 7,1912. Evening.
It's larger than the RMS Baltic! Oh dearest journal I say, "If you only had eyes!" Titanic is larger than four motorcars stacked on each other. I could scarcely see the top of the smoke staff. She is so lengthy, there is barley any dock space for it to be docked.
It's so challenging to describe; The crimson- black paint is the most handsome color I ever seen, with windows round and charming. Titanic is something out of a dream. I guess that was why they call her the Ship of Dreams.
I was in complete "Ahhhh" when I first laid eyes upon her. So was my mother; multicolor eyes scanning up and down the ship. Edward, who had no interest at all, just threw rocks into the water.
I have admit something dearest journal, even standing next to the Titanic I felt small, very small. There was something about the ship that gave me an eerie feeling, a feeling that a made me feel uncomfortable. A sinking feeling.
April 8, 1912.
Two days left! Can you believe it? After seeing the Titanic for the first time I can't wait! Except the waiting is going to take some time. It's storming today, and everyone is so busy. Father went to a meet some friends of his, Tomas Andrews, and J. Bruce Ismay. I never meet them, but mother says there very high-class gentleman like father. I really have no idea what that means, and I fancy I don't want to know.
Mother is busy dress shopping with grandmamma, Lulu, and Eddy. Libby is making snacks for our voyage, and Agatha is sleeping in the next room. She sounds like a elephant that's chocking. I might as well go exploring this inn. See what I can find.
April 8, 1912. Later.
There's so many different kinds of people in this inn. I went down to the pub (even though I knew I would be in a great deal of trouble if I was caught) to see if I could find some kind of excitement, and sure enough there was.
In the corner there was a stage with a band playing a polka called, "John Ryan's Polka", an old Scottish man alleged to me. There was people dancing a dance that I never seen before. I've only seen waltzes at the parties I've been to.
But do you want to know something exciting dearest journal? The Scottish man that told me the name of the jig, asked me to dance. I said I didn't know the dance. He just smiled a no tooth smile and said, "Ye don't have to know the steps to a dance, ye need only' t move your feet." I just started to jump around, and the old man started to mimic me. At the end of the polka, I decided to leave.
My lucky stars, it was so exciting! I wish I had stayed for the next song, or polka. To be really honest I had no knowledge on what a polka was until today.
-Mother just walked in the door. She wants me to try on a present she got me.
April 8, 1912. Evening.
It's the best present I ever received! A solid gold bracelet with half a heart dangling from the end of it. Mother has the other half. I simply adore it.
-Sigh… I must go. Father is back and he is going to take us to a restaurant.
April 9, 1912.
One more day, ONE MORE DAY! Mother said I can go back to the ship and look around with Edward if I wanted to. I said I would, therefore dearest journal I'm going to have to leave you on this brass bed. Sorry. But I do wish to go back to the docks. Write in you soon.
April 9, 1912. Later.
It stormed again. We had to go back to the inn. Eddy, and I didn't even get a chance to get another peek at "The Ship of Dreams." It doesn't really matter, because I'm going on it tomorrow!
Hmmm. I have no indication what to write about now, so as a result I'll just describe the suite I'm in.
The walls are a mossy green, the carpet is bright purple. A writing desk in the east corner of the room. The bed I'm writing on is made out of brass, and is diagonal from the writing desk. An elegant window seat under the window. Besides that, there is a couch, a rocking chair, and a pianoforte. (Piano.) Libby is playing it right now. -Now then, we're going to have lunch now.
April 9,1912. Evening
Tomorrow! Tomorrow! TOMORROW! The Ship of Dreams comes to life, and goes to the Land of Dreams, New York City, America! I never been to America before. Mother has, and she says it's the finest place on the earth. From her memory she recalls The Lady Liberty. I can't wait to meet her! -I have to go to sleep now. Lulu is bothering me about it. She says you need "beauty sleep."
April 10, 1912. Morning
The Ship of Dreams! I see it! Sorry if my hand writing is a little messy. I'm trying to write as I run along the dock. We over slept and we only have five minutes bef-
Oh darn it! Fell on my new dress, stockings ripped. Can't write right now dearest journal.
April 10, 1912. Later
Oh dearest journal, if you only had eyes! This really is the most grandest ship in the world. It's good news to tell that we were on time. There was so many people on the dock, I thought I would never have made it for they were blocking my path to Titanic.
As we made our way up the latter way that was between the green sea, and the ship I spotted a blond and a brown hair fellow. I saw them as I was running. They must be steerage. Father said something to my mother about steerage. It was a cruel thing to my ears, but I think it would be fair to repeat what he said.
"You know Mary, I wouldn't want to be caught in the rags of the deprived, and with their dilemma when it comes to money. I could never think of it. I tell you, God should have never took pity on them in the first place. Killed them off when he had the chance. Let the richer walk the earth"
"Now George, if God did that, then he would have to kill us all… or just men. You know men are so competitive when it comes to that, money and all."
"Mary?" My father was confused by that, and paused. My mother lifted her purple hat, smiled, then she gave him a peck on the cheek and went ahead of him through the doors leading on to the ship. The purple train of her gown trailing behind her.
I just stood there a few seconds looking back at the dock. That feeling came over me again dearest journal, that sinking feeling. Like something very awful was going to happen, very awful. I stood there a couple more seconds, while Lulu, Eddy, Libby, and Agatha went through the doors.
A few more seconds… I think I was transfix or something, because a voice in my head was screaming, stay on the dock, STAY ON THE DOCK! I only ignored it. I think someone brought me back to reality, because a lady with very bright red hair and a large striped hat poked me. "Are you going aboard? I believe the ship is going to leave in about two minutes." The lady, had the most saddest eyes I ever saw. Like she didn't want to go on this ship, like a second part of me did.
"Oh yes." I walked through the doors just when the bellhop said, "Last boarding call for TITANIC. (He looked at me.) Welcome aboard."
April 10, 1912. On the Staircase
The STAIRCASE! It is to be the grandest thing on the ship. The Mahogany wood shined to perfection with an angel statue at the end of the stair railing; The marble flooring has compass deigns in every which direction. A clock being held up by human beings, or are they goddess? On the top of the staircase.
I'm in complete "Ahhhh" as I'm writing on the Grand Staircase on "A" deck. Staring up into the dome over head seabirds fly, FLY, above me. The sky clear sapphire, with not a cloud in sight.
Mother and father, who are waiting for me, have given me a scolding about how un-lady like it is to keep someone waiting, say I can take Edward up to the deck to see Titanic leave port. -Sorry that I must leave you with Lulu dearest journal, but this can't wait!
April 10, 1912. 47 minutes later.
Goodbye, goodbye Southampton! Eddy and I just got back from the deck. It was so wonderful being on the deck, feeling the wind blow on my braided pigtails, the air full of sea salt. Eddy and I ran to the side of the ship where other people were waving goodbye to their loved ones. I leaned over the edge and saw that at the front of the ship the waves were splitting; like the Titanic was cutting them in two.
I was so caught up in all of excitement, I started yelling, "Goodbye, goodbye I'll miss you! Goodbye Southampton, adieu rolling green hills of England. America here I come!" (Two other people close by were almost shouting the same thing.)
Eddy started whining. He wanted me to pick him up so he could see. I said I couldn't in public, because older sisters don't do such a thing in less they are in the company of their own home, not on a ship such as the Titanic. (One of grand mamma's rules.)
He just started whimpering. Bollocks. I would have done it anyway, if not a blond hair fellow picked him up for me.
I was baffled, and surprised. Taken back that a lower-class person would do that. He just smiled at me and said, "Jack Dawson." American. He stuck out two filthy hands. He must have noticed my white gloves. " All do respect miss, I don't want to soil your gloves." A young man came behind him with a black- brown cap on his head. "This here is Fabrizio De Rossi." He nodded toward him.
"Winifred Josephine Morrill." I nodded my head ever so slightly like grandmamma told me to do. "That there in your hands is my brother Edward Francis Morrill the II." I wanted to add my pig- like brother, but that would have insulated my grandmamma.
"Well Ms. Morrill, it is a pleasure meeting you both." He smiled a huge smile. He is very handsome; Blond hair, and blue eyes.
I just smiled back, "Like wise Mr. Dawson, and Mr. De Rossi." I said in my most ladylike voice I could come up with.
"Hey Jack a real first class lady." Fabrizio said. He had a real Italian accent! I've heard Italian accents before in the opera's, and plays I've been to, but never a "real one." I was a little insulated, but then I had to say something to show that I was not, and to take it as a complement.
"Thank you very much." I looked really closely at them, like I have seen them before.
Jack most have noticed, because he said, "Is their something about me Ms. Morrill, or is it that I can't compare to your first class expectations?" I felt a little embarrassed, and a little guilty. Maybe he thought I was stuck up, and just insulated him.
"No, no it's not that Mr. Dawson,"
"Please call me Jack."
"Jack, it's just that I've seen you before."
"You have?" I looked down at my stockings, then noticed the rip. Then I remembered someone running… "You ran into me!"
"That was me? I'm very sorry for the inconvenience then miss."
"Please call me Winnie. And it's all right. I've had worst falls than that one." Jack looked at me. He had a glint of laughter in the corner of his eye. He put Eddy down. Eddy sat on the deck next to Fabrizio and played with his hat. Eddy, who managed to get his bowtie off, handed it to Fabrizio. I just continued my conversation with this new stranger.
I noticed a leather book in a bag that Jack had draped over his shoulder. "What's that?"
"Oh this here," he pointed to it. "It's just my art."
"Art?" That must have come out like I was dim-witted. When I was about to say I know what it is, he just said….
"You know drawings, sketches stuff like that." He took the book out. He started showing me these picturesque drawings. He turned to a page were a lady was sitting at a bar. He told me her story.
I can't really remember all of it, but I'll repeat it the best I can.
He told me, "See this women." He pointed her out. She had tons of jewelry on, and a shaggy dress. "This women would sit at this bar every night wearing every peace of jewelry she owned. She is waiting for her lost lover. See how moth eaten her dress is." I looked at the drawing ever so closely, and sure enough there was little shaggy holes everywhere. There is a name to this women, but I forgot.
Jack was about to show me some of his drawings he did in Paris, when grandmamma came on deck.
"Winifred!" I turned around in a flash almost knocking Jack's drawing book, which was balancing on the rail, overboard. He made a gurgling noise and caught it before it went over. Eddy, and Fabrizio stopped their giggling which was going on when Jack, and I were in conversation.
My grand mamma's face turned a bright red color, almost the color of her waist coat dress. This meant one thing… I was in a serious mess.
"Winifred. I think you, and Edward had enough time on the deck for one day. Now if you will say goodbye to these," she looked up and down Jack, and Fabrizio, "People, and return to the state-rooms. You can help unpack." I looked from Jack to grandmamma.
Jack turned to me," Go on Ms. Morrill. Me, and Fabrizio have to go down to steer… the lower combinations to check if there are rats." I gave a little laugh only he could hear. Grandmamma looked at me sternly.
"Did you hear that Winifred, they must go back to were they come from, and we must go back to ours. Come." She nodded her head, then turned and walked back through the door leading to "A" deck.
"Goodbye Jack, and Fabrizio. Come on Eddy." Eddy started whimpering again. He ran into me gently, and took my hand.
"Goobi Fabri." He started waving is sausage like fingers.
"Goodbye master Ed." Ed? Has this Italian person befriended my brother? We turned to leave. I started thinking about it, when Jack grabbed my arm.
"All show you the rest of my pictures later Winnie." He whispered. I just nodded my head and walked away.
Now I'm stuck in my state room. I can't write anymore, because grandmamma is on my every move. I got a great scolding from everyone, and now I have to unpack my things, and help my brother with his things.
April 10, 1912. Evening
Bullocks. Grandmamma made me stay behind in the stateroom, while everyone else goes to the dinning room for supper. I'm so angry right now, I don't know what to do. Grandmamma stopped me at the door just when mother, and father left the room.
"Winifred, I will not let you eat with us after your performance with those under prived beggars. You will stay here for the rest of the evening." She started putting on her yellow elbow-gloves, that matched her yellow shoulder dress. "I will send a bellhop with a plate of supper for you." Then she looked at me very closely, then turned away out into the hallway. She said one last thing before disappearing down it. "A young lady, must learn from her mistakes."
Mistakes? How is it a mistake talking to a fellow? Especially one in steerage. I understand a worm incident, but talking? Oh dearest journal, I don't understand some of the time how first-class persons are supposed to act. Most of the people I have seen which belong to higher classes, are snobbish, and not together kind enough to lift a finger to the undervalued. My own father is even that way. I just don't… understand.
April 11,1912.
Repeating. I hate when I do that. Especially when I'm very tired. I must have fallen asleep, while writing last night. Grandmamma, and everyone else left for breakfast. Grandmamma said something about not going to breakfast just incase if someone saw me talking to Jack.
I might as well describe the room I'm in, because I have a feeling it will turn out to be my prison. (Sigh)
As you walk into the room from the hallway, you come into a fairly large room with maple paneling, and gold designs over it. The far wall, across from the door leading into the hall, is the door to our private deck.
On the back wall, (where people come into the room) in the right corner is layout sofa. (One of those sofas with just one arm, and is laying lengthwise.)
In the left corner is your average two armed sofa. There is a dining table in the center of the room; Cherry wood perhaps.
East wall there is an cherry wood/ marble fireplace. The fireplace is also decorated in gold. The front has a gold seashell. On the mantle is a beautiful silver/golden mantle clock. Fresh sunflowers in a blown glass vase sit on each side of the clock, because mother loves them so. A zigzag mirror is above it.
I look uncanny. My hair plated in to two long chest length braided pigtails. A red velvet hat with a bulky violet on top of my head. My red jacket buttoned up to my neck with sliver buttons, and my dark navy blue skirt peeking slightly from underneath. I think I look like an alien to all the other passengers. (Mostly made up of steerage.)
In any case back to my state-room. (A.k.a my prison.) I loath the floor in this room. Gray carpet with floral print. It looks like my Aunt Elinor's wedding dress. (Giggle.) Eddy's, and my room are attached to this room, or in civilized terms, the parlor. In our room, are two brass beds. Eddy gets the largest one, for he has to share with Lulu. That bed is by the door leading into the room I just described. My bed, that fits only one person, is by the little hallway that leads to my parents bedroom, (Eddy, and I are not aloud to go in there) and another doorway that leads into the hallway. Grandmamma has her own suite. I feel bad for Libby, and Agatha though. They have to sleep on the sofas.
-Hmmm. The bellhops here. Must be my breakfast. Farewell dearest journal.
April 11, 1912. Later.
Finally Grandmamma let me out of this room.
I'm on the deck now, sitting on a lawn chair. There's a whole row of them going along the edge of the railing. I hate the dress I'm wearing. I believe I already described it. The stockings are ridding up my legs. I wish I can wear trousers like Eddy, instead of this monstrous thing. I just hat- Oh here comes Jack.
April 11, 1912. 30 minutes later.
Jack showed me the loveliest drawings of his from Paris here on the deck. I was a little uncomfortable with the nudity of the women in the pictures. In most of pictures there was the same girl over, and over.
"Jack. Do you love this girl? She is in every picture." I blurted out. I guess a blushed a little when I said that.
"No, just her hands. She is a one legged prostitute. See." He pointed to a full picture of the girl. She had only one leg.
"Oh my golly goodness." I started to giggle.
"What?" He looked like he was going to start giggling too. But when he said "what" I just busted into laughter. He started to do the same. I haven't the faintest idea why I was laughing.
"Hey Winnie can I see your hands?" I stopped laughing, and looked at him blankly.
"My hands? Why on earth would anyone like to see my hands?"
"Please?" He looked so handsome when he said that, I started to take off my gloves. Then I put my hands in his. They were so warm, I could have melt right in the lawn chair I was sitting in. He started to examine the features on my hands.
"You have fine-looking hands. Not to hard, not to soft, but perfect. There's fine lines in them, that's a good thing. You fingers are the perfect thickness.."
"Thickness?"
"Yes thickness. You have the best hands I've ever seen Ms. Winnie Morrill."
"Thank you… I suppose." I pulled my hands away putting them in my lap. I was trying not to smile, but I couldn't help blushing. Jack started smirking. I was about to say something when this lady with very bright red hair came walking down the deck.
She was wearing a white blouse, and the rest of the dress was yellow, and went all the way up to the chest. I recognized her at once. It was the women who woke me from my trance before I boarded the ship .
"Hello Jack." She looked at him, then at me and smiled, her green eyes sparkling. "Who's your friend?"
"Rose this is my good friend Ms. Winifred Morrill." He smiled at me, and handed me back my gloves. I stood up, putting my gloves on in haste. I stuck out my hand to shake this Rose persons hand.
"Rose DeWitt Bukater." She shook my hand daintily. Then for a view quick seconds she started to examine me. "Miss Morrill. Is your father by any chance thee George Jefferson Morrill? The vice President of "White Star."
"Yes he is." I boosted proudly. I smiled a huge smile at this Rose DeWitt Bukater. She did the same. Her eyes wilding up with a sadness I never knew existed. She turned away when she saw me looking at her face.
"Jack. Were you not going to show me your drawings today?" She looked at him longingly. I could tell by the look on her face, that she was falling head over heels for Jack. I was saying to myself, she can't have him. I saw him first.
"Oh yes Rose, I was." His face showed a longing for Rose. I felt a little pain in my heart. "Hey Winnie. I'm going to go show Rose my drawings. So if you don't mind me leaving…"
"No, I don't mind."
"Thanks Winnie, your great." He brushed his hand against my cheek, then started walking down the boat deck with Rose. I felt a mixture of sadness, and jealousy within me. -Now I'm stuck on the boat deck. Alone.