Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to James Cameron and his merry
band of movie-makers. Actually, I had help with the plot (Emma), but it's
still mine! Mine!
Author's Note: Thanks to: Emma, my lovely, lovely beta reader. And Helena
too, for listening to our mindless banter. Ciao!
**************************************************************************** **************** Rose stepped out into the pouring rain, scarlet curls already soaked and plastered to her pale forehead. Her eyes darted around, avoiding stares from curious onlookers. One inquisitive man stopped her, asking eagerly "Were you on the Titanic?" Numb, she shook her head: it was easier that way. Rose gawked, panicky, at the busy city. How was she ever going to survive without...no, don't think about him, it was too painful. She forced her mind to think of other things. First priority was to find a place to live. Rose wandered down an alley, just to escape the probing crowd. A sign in a grimy window promised "ROOMS FOR RENT". When she knocked, an elderly, bent-over woman answered the door.
"Excuse me, but do you have any vacancies?", Rose mumbled. The lady showed her to a small room, with cracked walls. It contained a narrow bed, a ragged arm-chair and a rickety table.
"The bathroom's down the hall," croaked the landowner as she left, paid with the money Rose found in Cal's jacket. Shivering, Rose locked the door. and crawled under the covers, her clothes still damp. The pent-up emotion finally formed itself into a single, crystalline tear. She curled herself up, preparing for a long, sleepless night.
**************************************************************************** **************** Meanwhile, Jack Dawson was trying to find a place dry enough in Central Park to light a cigarette: he really needed one. He settled down on a bench, the tree above deflecting most of the rain. As he lay there, Jack was playing over that terrible night. What-ifs ran through his head, questioning his actions that fateful night. 'What if I had held onto her hand tighter? What if I had looked harder when we got separated? Would she be here with me?'
He had lost his Rose, his love. Jack could not believe she was gone, her name wasn't on the survivor list. Nor was she on the Carpathia, he'd scoured the first class deck, searching for her. Of course, he'd seen Cal and Ruth mourning his Rose as well. But she couldn't be found. He inhaled deeply, trying desperately to calm his nerves.
Uncontrollable tears rolled down his cheeks. 'How could you let her die? She trusted you! You were supposed to save her Jack, and what did you do? You let her slip away!' Like Rose, Jack wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.
Author's Note: I've already got more chapters down, so they'll be up soon. Thanks! Please R/R!
**************************************************************************** **************** Rose stepped out into the pouring rain, scarlet curls already soaked and plastered to her pale forehead. Her eyes darted around, avoiding stares from curious onlookers. One inquisitive man stopped her, asking eagerly "Were you on the Titanic?" Numb, she shook her head: it was easier that way. Rose gawked, panicky, at the busy city. How was she ever going to survive without...no, don't think about him, it was too painful. She forced her mind to think of other things. First priority was to find a place to live. Rose wandered down an alley, just to escape the probing crowd. A sign in a grimy window promised "ROOMS FOR RENT". When she knocked, an elderly, bent-over woman answered the door.
"Excuse me, but do you have any vacancies?", Rose mumbled. The lady showed her to a small room, with cracked walls. It contained a narrow bed, a ragged arm-chair and a rickety table.
"The bathroom's down the hall," croaked the landowner as she left, paid with the money Rose found in Cal's jacket. Shivering, Rose locked the door. and crawled under the covers, her clothes still damp. The pent-up emotion finally formed itself into a single, crystalline tear. She curled herself up, preparing for a long, sleepless night.
**************************************************************************** **************** Meanwhile, Jack Dawson was trying to find a place dry enough in Central Park to light a cigarette: he really needed one. He settled down on a bench, the tree above deflecting most of the rain. As he lay there, Jack was playing over that terrible night. What-ifs ran through his head, questioning his actions that fateful night. 'What if I had held onto her hand tighter? What if I had looked harder when we got separated? Would she be here with me?'
He had lost his Rose, his love. Jack could not believe she was gone, her name wasn't on the survivor list. Nor was she on the Carpathia, he'd scoured the first class deck, searching for her. Of course, he'd seen Cal and Ruth mourning his Rose as well. But she couldn't be found. He inhaled deeply, trying desperately to calm his nerves.
Uncontrollable tears rolled down his cheeks. 'How could you let her die? She trusted you! You were supposed to save her Jack, and what did you do? You let her slip away!' Like Rose, Jack wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.
Author's Note: I've already got more chapters down, so they'll be up soon. Thanks! Please R/R!