I rarely write in this person but needed practise for my uni work. So here I wrote this and hope it suffices. Thanks for reading.

The fire had gone out.

I know it has.

There had been times when it threatened to.

But then, it happened.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I saw my soft auburn curls, my pale skin, which was even paler tonight, but I saw nothing else. My eyes were cold and vacant, and I almost didn't know the person who was staring back at me any longer. Since I'd boarded the ship; the beautiful, unimaginable Titanic, I'd been numb to the world around me. It had truly started long before that, the moment I'd met Caledon Hockley. I can't recall how we met, or how we were introduced; the handful of chaperoned visits and dances were hazy but the one memory that wasn't as fractured as I was stood out completely; the moment he proposed to me. I was told countless times it was best for me and my mother. The only thing I'd gotten out of it was this cold feeling, this loss of control. I no longer felt like I was in control of my own destiny and I felt like a pawn in my mother's chess game. The only time I'd truly felt alive since boarding this ship was the night I'd almost ended it all—the night I met Jack Dawson.

Jack had reignited the spark within me, the fire that society had been putting out. It was just a giant clawing hand, just slowly suffocating me and ensuring that with each passing day I suffered just a little bit more. I was suppressed just a little more. One day, I would just stop breathing. Or so it felt. With Jack, I felt alive once more; as though the sun was finally resurfacing after a terribly long and cold winter. It wasn't just his handsome face; with stunning blue eyes, a smile that was always slightly lopsided, like a smirk and his hair which was desperately and unfashionably too long. It was his demeanour. His standards. His happy-go-lucky nature. His voice. His passion and zest for life. It was how he listened to me when I spoke. Really listened…

I seriously detested the person I was with Cal. He was wealthy and handsome, yes, but I didn't want in the way that he wished me to be. I'd already learned he was controlling and abusive. I knew all he cared about was money and power. He was cold, just as cold as he made me feel. He'd iced my heart, dousing the flames that once powered my soul, weakening my spirit until it was something he could control. Weakening me and changing me into the fiancée he wanted. I opened my music box, and a sweet melody filled the air. It reminded me of my childhood. I was groomed to be a perfect bride for a rich aristocrat; I was taught everything a well brought up woman should know and social etiquette was drummed into me from a very young age. Despite this, I knew that I was still quite innocent of it all. When I was younger, I had no idea about the grand plans my parents schemed for me. I picked up the hand mirror and looked at my reflection closely. I am seventeen. Hardly out of my childhood and yet I felt so old at that moment. So weary, as though by knowing my future I had no need for energy and enthusiasm. However, as soon as I thought of the lower-class man who had saved my life; I felt and saw my cheeks brightening, and something sparkled in my eyes. The first time my eyes had fully met his, I had felt something stir inside my stomach, something which fluttered about almost like a loose butterfly.

I ran a brush through my hair as I sat in my nightgown and I turned my head quickly when I heard the door knob creek. I wiped the mirror and gently placed it back onto the dressing table, looking into the larger mirror in front of me to see who was entering. Caledon Hockley stood in the doorway. As the door opened, he leaned against the frame casually. I could only prepare myself for the exchange of words.

"I know you've been melancholy," he said gently, almost lovingly, fitting in quite well with the still tinkling music box. "I don't pretend to know why," he continued.

He entered the room, closing the door behind him to ensure thorough privacy. Cal walked over and pushed the music box out of the way, sitting down on the dressing table. The music halted abruptly, the reminder of my innocent childhood gone, bringing my thoughts back to harsh reality. "I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week, but I thought—tonight…''

Flipping open a greyish black box and revealing the most beautiful necklace that I had ever seen. It was a fascinating shade of blue and was glittering with a diamond chain. Cal continued, pleased that I was so taken aback by its beauty.

"Good gracious," I gasped, cutting him off. I was taken aback but it was also mixed with something else.

He studied my face with a superior grin. "Perhaps it's a reminder of my feelings for you," he said, moving behind me and brushing my hair from my neck to clasp it in place.

"It's overwhelming,"I said in a rather unenthusiastic voice. As amazing a gift as this was, my melancholia refused to let me become more animated. I was feeling quite uncomfortable, and not just by the heavy, expensive diamond around my neck. Cal's stare made me feel somewhat fearful. It was as though there was something reflecting in them that I failed to see. I looked back at the diamond. It was heavy, like a dog collar around my neck. It seemed to dig into my soft flesh like nails.

"Well, it's for royalty; we are royalty, Rose," he said. He toyed with my hair as he knelt down beside me, watching my face.

"You know, there's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I would deny you," he said, studying me as I held my own gaze in the mirror, "if you would not deny me." I felt sure he was wrong. I was sure he could not give me freedom and happiness. I was sure he would not respect me as an equal. He was not talking of feelings, though. I knew he was talking of materialistic goods for that was all he could ever offer me, and that wasn't his fault, it was simply the way they had been brought up. I found the Dawson boy came into my mind and how the blue of the stone seemed to match the intensity of his eyes. Suddenly, I was drawn into the mirror, my eyes fixated onto the stone. Fixated on him; how had those kind eyes filled my entire universe upon that single first stare?

Cal's voice had a hint of possessiveness in it. I turned to face his gaze, his eyes moving low on my neck to the necklace and then farther down. "Open your heart to me, Rose..." But my heart wasn't his. It never would be.

He reached up to touch me, pushing my hair from my face and letting his hand wander low on my neck. I stiffened at his touch and his hand grazed the necklace before moving down to my breasts.

"Cal," I said quietly. He didn't acknowledge that I had spoken and he placed a kiss on the exposed skin of my neck. I stood to escape his touch. "Cal..."

"Why do you continue to deny me, Rose?" he asked in a frustrated tone. "I give you everything, buy you whatever you wish, but you won't let me in!" Anger sparkled in his eyes as he stood, too, and held my gaze. He watched me, almost like a cat watched a bird; prey. His eyes imploring into me for something, they seemed to radiate something frightening. Outside, he held composure, but those dark eyes showed he was some sort of animal inside. The heat emitting from them was intense. It was lust. It was desire. It was conveyed in such a way that he was not even asking. He was telling me silently that he deserved some sort of reward.

"I..." I didn't love him. I never had. I'd been forced into the relationship by everyone, but I had never truly wanted it. I didn't want the rest of my life to revolve around money and fancy parties and being Cal's prize. I didn't want to be belittled for speaking my mind. I wanted to be free. And when he touched me, Jack's face flashed through my head. Jack was free.

He'd only hit me once, and I tried to forget the time he turned a table over on me at breakfast, but still, when his temper rose like this and I frustrated him, he scared me.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, taking another step back.

"You are my fiancée. We will be married and you will be mine," he said in a calm, cold tone, breathing deeply as he stepped closer to me. My body froze. "Do you not want me?" he asked as he stood in front of me.

I hesitated as he reached forward to stroke my arm. He leaned in, grabbing my chin and kissing me. It wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle or loving, either. It was hungry. His arms wrapped around my waist, holding me possessively. I felt them wander lower on my body. I hardly returned the kiss for I hadn't even known how to. Did lips move at all or in a practised fashion? Perhaps it would be something one became accustomed to over time. I was simply too fearful and in too much inner turmoil to react. Cal seemed not to notice, this was the closest he had ever been to me and he was too aroused to stop now. With hands sweeping below my posterior.

I broke away, gasping for air. "I…" I took a deep breath. "I don't want this. I'm not ready for this," I said, breaking his hold.

He dropped his hands to his side with a frustrated growl. "You're never ready! You never will be ready!" he snapped.

He reached forward, toying with the necklace he'd given me moments before as a token of his "love". He was so selfish, I'd yet to be convinced the man really did love me.

"You like pretty things like this, Rose?" he asked softly.

"Yes, but I—I do not wish to be bought.'' It was true.

"I am proud that you are mine. Proud to purchase fine things for you…" He had a glint in his eye that scared me. ''You should be proud to be mine, also, in mind, body and soul.''

"Cal, I don't...I…" I was sinking then. Slowly. There was hardly a way out. The hand which was always silencing me. Keeping a hold upon my mouth seemed to be clawing now.

He wrapped his arms around me again, ignoring my struggling. "Because I do..."

He captured my lips quickly in a kiss as he tangled his hands into my hand, and started to pull at it in a passionate manner which burned my scalp through. I shoved him away, but he held me.

"Cal!"

"A woman should enjoy making love to her husband," he said, grabbing my wrists roughly. in one swoop he lifted me and he carried me over to the bed, placing me down and broke the kiss. His eyes were full of lust. I tried to reason to myself. Cal was a good man, wasn't he? He was a little arrogant, but he did care for me, didn't he? Maybe this was what love was? My mother never showed any particular outward affection for my father when he was alive. Maybe, I thought, my own relationship with Cal was the same?

I didn't know how to please, how to position myself,, how to ensure my fiancé would be satisfied. Brief snippets of chatter from inside the ballrooms at home had taught me to simply lay there. It can be pleasurable but most men simply take the lead and do what they need to do. A woman is simply there to sate the man, be beautiful for him and leave an air of mystery about the bedroom and good heavens—never share a bathroom. But then it came to me…

"Cal! I don't want this. I don't want to make love to you. Please stop this," I begged as he reached down to silence me with his lips. He pulled my hands above my head and held my wrists down with one hand while using the other to explore my body. He reached his hand up my nightgown to graze my thigh and I squirmed away from him.

I didn't want this.

I felt the tears brimming hot in the back of my eyes and I tried to blink them away, to no avail. Anger suddenly flared inside of me. I wasn't his, and he couldn't just take what he wanted from me. He broke our kiss to suck on the skin of my neck. I felt hot and bothered. But not happy. I closed my eyes and let him get on with it once I realised that I was going to lose my virginity before my wedding night. Quite often I had wondered what it would be like, but never had I imagined this. Until, I saw blue…swimming blue eyes. Like chips of ice. And then forced my eyes open.

''No! You will not have me!''

He raised his head and looked at me in shock for a moment. Then there was a glint in his eye and a smirk spread across his face as his eyes held mine. Before I knew what was happening, he raised his hand and smacked me hard across the face.

"You really do displease me, Rose," he said as he stared down at me with cold yet amused eyes. It was foolish of me to provoke him; I knew he wasn't above hitting me. I looked away from him, tears falling harder, unable to meet his gaze. I turned my head to the side and stared at the wall, at anything but him.

I'd given up. Not even the blue chips of ice could save her now.

I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him. If Cal wanted something, he always got it.

"The purpose of a woman is to love her man," he said, reaching for his suspenders. "You're lucky to have me." He smirked, unfastening his suspenders and pushing them aside. He reached for his shirt and undid it slowly, staring at me the entire time. '' Don't be so cold, darling" he said, grabbing my face and tilting it forward so I was forced to look at him. "That's better," he said, slipping off his shirt and revealing his toned torso. I definitely wasn't going anywhere. He'd stop me easily.

The tears that had been falling at a steady pace quickened and I let out a full sob. He quickly undressed the rest of the way until he was naked before me. I shut my eyes tightly and breathed deeply, trying to escape this hell. When I closed my eyes; I saw those eyes once more. Blue. heavenly until Cal reached forward to caress my cheek. It was like hot splashes of acid across my tender skin.

He reached for my nightgown and slipped it off of me, taking in the sight before him. He shamelessly gasped to be the first man to ever see me without clothes. He was proud, then. Evidently as he pressed his body against mine and I felt the evidence of his arousal against my skin. I felt sick to my stomach as his hands roamed my body, shamelessly grabbing at my breasts. He took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it, before biting down hard. I let out a loud cry of pain and his hand came crashing down on my mouth as I pulled at his skin in relief of the horrible torture.

He hissed. "Jesus Christ, Rose," he said, grabbing onto my hand and pushing it away from him. I cried harder. The one comfort I'd been taking in him, just using him as something to grab onto, and he didn't even want that. This man didn't love me. He was just using me.

When he finally decided to take his own pleasure. I made no sound. No struggle. What use was there? He pulled away from me, roughly after riding out his pleasure, causing me to let out another loud cry of pain. He moved away from me. I looked down and caught sight of a bloodstain on the bed. My virginity was gone. With my fire. I had left it all leave.

He wiped himself off, using the bed sheet to clean the blood off, before collapsing beside me, breathing deeply. I turned so I wasn't facing him and curled away from him and into myself. I let the sobs continue as the pain in my body throbbed uncontrollably.

He reached over and shut off the bedside lamp, clearly deciding he was staying in here and that we were going to sleep.

I couldn't stop the sobs that racked my body. I was ruined, I was stuck with him, and I was his—forever.

Then, he wrapped his arms around me and I felt his breath on my neck. "It'll be better next time," he whispered, almost kindly. I didn't want there to be a next time. I'd go my whole life without making love if it had to be with him.

I walked the deck the next day, my hair falling down into a mess in the wind. I'd wanted to be alone and excused myself from the table at lunch. I was still sore, so I walked gingerly, taking a peaceful stroll and trying to forget all memories of last night. Of my entire life. I felt oddly weak, lethargic and lifeless. There was barely anything left of me.

I suddenly felt myself being pulled into a room and felt the door shut behind me. I looked up—Jack. My heart skipped a beat. He'd dragged me into the empty gymnasium.

"Rose!" he said in an excited tone. His face fell when he saw the look on mine. I'd been trying to hide the fact that something was wrong. I had painted an accurate portrayal…until the very one who saw through to my very soul was a witness. "Rose," he said softly, studying my face. "What is it?"

"Nothing, Jack. I can't—I can't be here. I have to go. I can't see you anymore," I said quickly before turning to leave.

Jack grabbed my arm tightly to stop me from leaving and I winced in pain, letting out a small hiss. There was a bruise there from where Cal had held me down. The way Jack held me though, even firmly, was never with a desire to cause punishment or serious intent.

I turned to face Jack to gauge his reaction, hoping he hadn't heard me. His face was a mask of confusion as he let go of my arm quickly, an apologetic look. He leaned forward and grabbed it again gently, pushing up the sleeve of my dress and exposing the dark bruise forming there, one of many. His eyes widened in shock, but quickly turned angry. An anger I never thought I would see upon that handsome face.

"Rose," he said gently, dropping my arm. "Who did this?"

I turned from him, towards the door, shaking my head furiously. He couldn't know.

"Rose," he said again, more desperately. I halted, but didn't turn. "You have this amazing fire about you, Rose, and every day you're with them. Every day, I see it burn out a little. And if you keep doing this to yourself, soon it's going to burn out." His words hurt because they were so true. I choked back tears and turned to face him. "Now, tell me what happened," he said gently, coming to stand in front of me, backing me up against the wall.

I looked away from his burning gaze and swallowed hard. "It was nothing, Jack," I said softly, not meeting his gaze. "I have to go." I shifted to move, but he stopped me. He always stopped my heart.

He grabbed my chin gently and tilted it up to meet his. It was loving. Beautiful. There was so much sympathy and concern in his eyes that my heart hurt. "What happened?" he breathed.

"Cal," I said quietly.

His fists clenched and his jaw locked instantly. "He hit you?" he asked incredulously. I nodded, looking away again. If only that had been it. He studied my face.

"Yes.''

He growled in anger. "What else?"

The tears finally spilled over that I'd been fighting so hard to hold back. Jack gently reached forward and wiped them away with his thumb. I let out a sob at the sensation. I arched into his touch. It was one that I actually needed. It was gentle and loving, unlike Cal's cold, harsh one.

"I'm ruined," I said, softly. "I am trapped with him and I have accepted that fate.''

''What has he done to you?''

I let out another light sob as the tears started to flow freely. I couldn't stop them. I was still looking away, mortified, anywhere but at his face.

''He has done the one thing to ensure that no one else will ever want me.''

He reached forward and gently pulled me into him. I clung to him, sobbing into his chest as he wrapped his arms protectively around me. "Shh," he whispered, stroking my hair gently. I could hear the pain in his voice. "I want you."