Chapter 2: With Your Guidance
Author's Note: Wow! The first chapter got some good feedback – even though there weren't many comments, the ones I received were extremely sweet and encouraging reviews. Thanks so much to those who reviewed, added this story to alert, or just read it in general. Literally, I come home from school super excited about my stories, and seeing how they are perceived.
All right, here we go!
-LoveWillFindYou
Jack's Point of View
While on Earth, I did not consider myself a very religious person. My religion consisted of cigarettes, gambling, and reflecting my views my views of the world on paper. After I boarded the Titanic, my religion included Rose DeWitt Bukater.
My new location has no title – I cannot tell if this is supposed to be heaven or supposed to be hell. This is just "after", defined in no other way. I could only truly call it heaven if Rose was here with me. But in all honesty, I'm glad she isn't, and is continuing to live her life as she is supposed to.
Wherever here may be, though, it is impossible to feel sad. It is impossible to exude anything but light and positive energy. I radiate feelings of joy and overwhelming emotions of love. The feeling of being free of the shackles that are negative emotions is a one that is like only one thing I have every experienced on Earth – the feelings I possessed, and still do possess, for Rose DeWitt Bukater.
I hope Rose doesn't let go. I hope she knows I will never let go.
Rose's Point of View
I awoke the next morning with my curls twisted and tangled into knots against my pillow. My eyes ache with both exhaust and the aftermath of last night's sobbing spell. Although it is morning, the windowless room is dark, dreary, and a monotonous gray – an atmosphere that seeps into my already miserable expression.
A shard of glass is hung at an awkward angle across the narrow room; I think it is supposed to be a mirror. I don't bother to check my appearance, knowing it would be useless.
I decide to remain in yesterday's clothes, the same dress I have worn since I arrived on the Carpathia and was provided with a warm dress. The dress is not nearly as fine as my other gowns, which went down with the ship, but I don't care. This new attire looks like something one of the ladies at Jack's party would wear – the girl I long to be would wear a dress such as this. It is wrinkled with wear and sleep, something my mother would have frowned upon heavily.
I pull on the heavy coat I wore throughout the…tragedy, and clutch it to my body. I clearly remember Jack wearing it, recalling how utterly adorable he looked in such proper dress. I find comfort that I had a material piece of him here in this foreign place. I glance over at the untidy, stained sheets, where the necklace lays across my pillow. I reach to it and choose to wear it, not bothered by the startling offset it offers to my ragged dress. This necklace is now a symbol of my journey aboard the Titanic. Furthermore, a symbol of Jack - as though to prove he was real and not just a very, very good dream.
"Good morning, ma'am," A bearded and rather dirty looking man greets me as I enter the inn's lobby of sorts. He smiles a broad grin, which is missing its front teeth. I curl my lips upward briefly; hoping the gesture somewhat resembles a smile. It probably looked something closer to a grimace, or a scowl.
As soon as I exit the dilapidated hotel, I am greeted with the bustling streets of New York. No one here is alike, yet everyone is so unique that it all seems to blend into one beautiful, mismatched quilt. I love it. The faces passing me are different and special in their own ways; faces completely unfamiliar to me. I love that, too.
With a burst of intuition, I suddenly realize that I can be whoever I want to be here. My past, the name – it is all useless here. Besides, I am Rose Dawson now, finally free of the name whose shadow I lived under for all of my life, the name which dominated my existence for far too long. The feeling of liberty and independence overtook me with a staggering force. I imagined this is what my fellow passengers on the Titanic, living and dead, would feel like after arriving in America for the first time. I found an unexplained comfort in not knowing the people around me, people whom I could impress just by being me, Rose Dawson. Rose Dawson. Rose Dawson. That is truly how it should be, after all. Rose Dawson, Rose Dawson.
Rose Dawson is undefined. She was not formed by a cookie cutter – she is herself. And now, I am that girl. For the first time since that fateful night, I feel like screaming out in ecstasy. I find this new knowledge to be inspiring in a way nothing has ever stimulated me before. A large smile reaches across my face, shattering the tense muscles in my mouth and cheeks. I laugh loudly, without a care. I feel as though I am standing at the bow of the Titanic again, with only Jack's gentle hands guiding me. Now, as Rose Dawson, I would live to the fullest with his hands still there, supporting mine and keeping me from jumping over the edge. I would do everything I had ever wanted to do, starting from this moment. All in Jack Dawson's honor. He was the only man who had taught me to live, and for that, I will be in debt for the rest of my time here.
"Thank you, Jack, thank you," I murmur, looking up at the blue-grey sky, goofy grin still overpowering my lips, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. And Jack, I promise – I'll never let go."
Author's Note: So how was that? I'm not so sure. REVIEWS PLEASE! I'm not sure if I'm going to continue with this. This just seems like the perfect ending. However, I plan on writing more Titanic pieces in the future. Stay tuned. Until then, love to the readers. Seriously, wow, thanks so much. Be sure to check out my other stuff (it is all romantic, usually sad romance) and to email me your ideas at . I'll do my best to put them into words!
-LoveWillFindYou