The drivers honked, and the people around us cleared for the cars to get through. Curious, I looked out the window. But, my mother shot me a look and right away, I knew poking my head out was yet another unladylike thing to do. The car came to a stop, and I could feel our things being unloaded from the trunck of the car. I grew impatient. Finally, the door swung open, and the driver helped me out of the car. I patted my dress and straightened up, then, I saw it. The Titanic was as majestic as everyone expected it to be. Talk of the ship of dreams was nothing compared to actually seeing it. I couldn't wait to speak of the journey as soon as I reached America. I could hear father dictating to the bellhop boys on which suitcases went where, and I made my way over to my mother, who with friends, was talking about their expectations for the great ship.
"So, Annabelle, what are you expecting of the ship?" Mrs. Brown asked
I thought quickly in my mind, "I hope it is as great inside as outside. I don't want to see any flaws on the ship of dreams" I smiled. My mother smiled in approval. That wasn't what I wanted though. I wanted to explore this ship inside out. I wanted to learn everything there was about the architecture and mechanics of the ship. But had I said that, I would've seen my mother's death stare. For, those are men's things; and I am no man.
"They are taking our bags up from right here, no walking over to check in for us. Thankfully we don't have to walk through that filthy inspection line, like those poor steerage folks do. But, the White Star Company knows better than to accuse us of having any of those strange diseases" my mother bragged to her friends. Slowly we made our way to the boarding deck, and before I knew it, my father passed our papers over to the kind gentleman, and we were soon on the R.M.S Titanic. The sun shone through the windows almost perfectly. The floors were wood, and finished to the tee. I brushed my hand lightly against the sturdy walls, and it was almost like the ship's aesthetic beauty was passed to me, because I felt extremely confident on this ship of dreams. As we were being escorted to our rooms, I saw a group of people surrounding a man in his late thirties.
"Father, why are those people surrounding that man?"
"That's Mr. Thomas Andrews…the chief designer of the ship"
I nodded and smiled. I memorized his face, because it was with him who I wanted to speak. We entered a wide hallway with elegant art pieces covering the walls. Women gathered around different paintings and discussed them with such interest in the art, whether real or pretended. My parents were lead into the sitting room of our state room, but I was lead to the other side of the hallway to a separate entrance to my room by our suite's maid. My room was marvelous. The furniture was of the finest cherry wood one would find on a ship. My gowns already hung in the closet, and my luggage was at the bottom organized nicely on racks. Our suite maid had done a fine job of putting my things in the right places. I trusted her enough to know all of the things that were packed were still in my room. I walked out into the patio, and glanced to the people waving to their family members and friends setting sail.
I heard the trumpets sound, and I began getting ready for dinner. I picked my gown out, and our suite maid helped me with my corsette. I picked up my hair, but left a few ringlets loose. I wore a red gown with a fine mink draped around my shoulders. I was excited for the first dinner, because we would be sitting with the ship's elite, which meant I'd get to hear more about its making and what exactly made it such an amazing ship without actually having to ask myself. It was my duty to sound like a lady, and act as clueless about mechanics and architecture as possible.