A/N: Just felt like writing this... enjoy!
I DON'T OWN TITANIC.
17-year-old Rose DeWitt Bukater stepped out of the car on the Southampton dock. She tipped her large hat and gazed up at the ship she would be sailing back to America on with her mother and fiancé. It was absolutely incredible, she thought-the epitome of luxury with it's fresh paint that sparkled magnificently in the sunlight and the way that it towered above the waves.
She could only imagine what it looked like on the inside. She had read that it was grandest ship in the world to date, and so far, she more than agreed with that statement. It was truly the most beautiful steamship she'd ever seen in her life.
However, she knew that she would not enjoy this voyage. How she wished that she could relax with some good adventure novels and go exploring all around the various decks, but she knew that she could not. Her mother and Cal wouldn't make it that easy for her. She'd be dragged to fancy dinners and forced to fake her happiness and excitement about her upcoming wedding, which inside, she was dreading.
She felt like a slave, being taken to America in chains. Titanic was no longer the beautiful ship she'd seen only moments ago, now it was a dark and miserable slave ship. She was trapped with no escape. She knew deep down that she'd never experience the future she'd so wished for as a child. She herself was the epitome of 'poor little rich girl'. She hated her life.
Cal looked at her expectantly, as if he wanted her to say something. So she did. "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania."