Written by Helena
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

God, she was beautiful—her blazing red hair, her porcelain skin, the way she’d whisper my name. She made my name sound like music, like it was the most beautiful word in the English language.

I have to laugh slightly at how strange it all is. My friends always said that I had extravagant tastes. I always seemed to go for the women who were out of my league, the women whom I could never have. Now, looking back, I see that it was just a defense mechanism. By loving someone who didn't love me in return, I would never have to get into a relationship. Oh, but Rose did love me in return. It was quite a shock when I came to the realization that she loved me. I had opened my heart to her and she had grabbed it. Of course, she had hesitated at first, but she had come around.

I didn't understand why God had pitied me now and finally given me what I truly wanted. When she told me that she was getting off the ship with me, my heart leapt for joy and I was sure that nothing in the world could come between us. And nothing in this world did come between us. Fate came between us. She was meant to live through that April night, and I wasn't. Now I see that God hadn't taken pity on me. It was Rose he had felt sorry for. I had been conceited and thought that I had starred in the story of my life. But I hadn't been put here to live my life; I was here to be in Rose's. My whole life I had been taught to make each day count, while Rose had been taught to look pretty for the young men. I learned the meaning of life at a young age, while it took most a lifetime to learn. The reason God hadn't let me die in that terrible fire when I was fifteen was because I had to make a difference in someone else's life. The woman hanging off the back of the Titanic was the reason why I had been put there, and also the reason why I no longer was there.

I smile again when I see her get out of the helicopter. God, she looks stunning. Even after eighty-four years, at age one hundred, she is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I follow her as they take her into her room. I know she feels my presence, for she turns her head and smiles at me. They all must think she is crazy for smiling at nothing. But then again, they're all so wrapped up in their own lives, they probably don't even notice.

I like Lizzy. Rose taught her father morals, and he, in turn, taught Lizzy. I turn my head so that I'm facing Brock. I know that Lizzy must have been put here to help Brock, to show him that there is more to life than money. The bastard doesn't even notice that life has been handed to him on a silver platter. I sigh, cursing myself for still being so bitter after all these years. I hope that Lizzy and Brock's life together isn't cut short.

I see the picture I drew of Rose. The drawing was probably the best I've ever done, but still it doesn't do her justice. I plan to draw her again soon—tonight, actually. I have never been so thrilled before. Since the day I arrived here, in whatever the hell you want to call it, I've been counting down the days until Rose comes. And that day has nearly arrived. At two o'clock tomorrow morning, I will see her again. Well, I have always been able to see her, but she will finally be able to see me. I will hold her, kiss her, and tell her those three simple words that I never got the chance to tell her when we were on the Titanic. Of course, I could have told her with my last breath. I could have admitted my true feelings and my undying love for her. But I wanted to spare her the pain and the heartache the following morning. Now I realize that I didn't spare her anything but the contentment of knowing that her feelings were mutual. I can only hope that my actions spoke loud enough.

I find myself getting very caught up in her telling our story. When I see silent tears running down her beautiful cheeks, I want to go and comfort her, but I've learned that I cannot brush away her tears.

She is done telling our story now, and I watch Lizzy take Rose back to her room. I see that there is more sadness in her stature, and yet there is some relief and happiness in her from finally being able to tell our story and not holding anything back. I know that she feels that she has finally made life count. She has completed her promise, and now I stand facing the clock, waiting. I know she's here. I feel her presence. I turn around and my breath gets caught in my throat. There she is, more beautiful and stunning than I remembered. She takes my outstretched hand and smiles slightly. I hesitate before pressing my lips gently on hers. She deepens the kiss and we vaguely hear the sound of applause in the background.

We both made our lives count, and now we are rewarded with eternal bliss.

The End.

Stories