The cold still surrounded her, the ice biting her. Darkness surrounded her as she realized she was alone in the world. Her hand was still welded tightly to Jack's. She was still staring up at the stars in a trance. No more tears came to her eyes. The boat's flashlight still highlighted the area of the water where she was.
"Come Josephine...in my flying machine...going up she goes...up she goes…"
The sudden pain that overcame her body was one she'd never felt before. Tears spilled rapidly from her eyes. Her breathing quickened as she tried to catch her breath.
"Jack!" she called faintly. "Jack!" She burst into yet another heart-wrenching sob. “Jack!” she called loudly and breathlessly. She felt a hand, a strong, warm hand, touch hers. Her breathing quickened. “Jack?” her voice was almost inaudible and tears spilled from her eyes. Her head felt heavy. Her body was weak. She had no strength, not even to open her eyes. “Is that you, Jack?” she whispered. The hand grasped hers tighter.
“Rose?” the voice whispered. A man's voice. But the voice did not belong to Jack. The voice sounded like...her father. “Rose, come to me. Rose, open your eyes,” the voice continued.
With all the strength she could muster, Rose's eyes flickered open. Her father's face was what she saw, his large brown eyes and dark, wavy hair. He had a smile on his face, and when Rose squinted her eyes, he was still what she saw. “Daddy...” was all Rose could manage. Was this really her father she saw before her? The father she had not seen in over a year? Rose battled to keep her eyes open, but again, in seconds, they were closed. She had never felt such weakness in her life. Her chest fell and rose steadily, and William guessed his daughter had drifted to sleep. But her sleep was disturbed with her constant loud and haunting calls for Jack. She cried desperately in her sleep, and all William could do was watch his daughter in the agony she was in.
*****
Early in the morning of April twentieth, Rose awoke disoriented and stiff. Readjusting her eyes, she found she was in a small room. A large fire burned in the stove and the smell of coffee filled her nostrils. Her body ached, but not from the cold, because for the first time in a long time, she felt warm. Several blankets covered her body, and she appeared to be laying on some sort of couch. The surroundings were new to her; this was something she could not remember. All she remembered was the cold, and the wind, the rain falling down harder than she had ever known, her body feeling weak and as though she could not hold up her own body weight. The nightmares that had come to her were not nightmares but memories of the night the Titanic sank. The cries of the hundreds of people who had slowly frozen to death in the Atlantic Ocean, the screams of terror and agony that still rang in her ears, and Jack, his face still handsome even in death. The promise that she had made to him–to go on. Something that she wished she hadn't done. So many unanswered questions. Would she be waiting for an absolution forever?
*****
A strong, warm hand touched Rose's forehead, tenderly stroking her auburn curls. After so much sleep, Rose's body felt terribly achy. Her head ached and thumped heavily. Slowly, as if in slow motion, Rose raised her shaking hand to her forehead. She slowly opened her eyes. Her vision blurred slightly before clearing. Her father's smiling face was what she saw, just as she remembered him. His auburn hair, deep set brown eyes, strong jaw, and the smile that had always reassured her as a child. His smile reached his eyes; his hand moved slowly, stroking his fingers over her hand. The moment was surreal. Was this really her father? Or one of her dreams? Suddenly, a quivering gasp escaped her lips; her very body began to shake.
“Oh, Daddy...” was all she could manage, her voice trailing off. It was a struggle for her just to speak.
“Yes. It's me, Rose.” William approached Rose; he brought his body closer to hers and felt her shaking. What the hell had happened to his daughter? “It's me, Rose,” he whispered again.
Rose squeezed her eyes closed, feeling the tears spill from them. Moments later, she attempted to get into a sitting position. Her body still feeling helpless, she struggled. William watched her struggles and her shaking. He had heard her cries and screams during her two day sleep, her calls for Jack, her body writhing as if she had been possessed by some evil demon. Something traumatic had happened to his daughter. He knew that much.
“Rose...” William started. Suddenly, he was lost for words. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the throbbing of his head. He was never one to be at a loss as to what to say. But what could he say? Ask questions? “Rose, what are you doing here in the city?”
Rose sat upright, her trembling hands in her lap and her head bowed down low. Her hair hung lifelessly in her face. Slowly, she raised her head upwards and gazed right into the eyes of her father. Although they had eye contact, William felt like his daughter was somewhere else. Her eyes were red and puffy. The nightmares that haunted her had kept her from resting peacefully. She did not speak for several minutes, just gazed into her father's eyes almost absentmindedly. William felt almost uncomfortable and almost as if this wasn't his daughter.
“Rose?” he asked again.
“I...I…” was all she managed. Images of the Carpathia docking filled her mind. The press, the flashes, the screams from reunited families, the cries of the relatives learning someone they were waiting for would never come, that they had died with the Titanic. “I was on the Titanic,” she managed, numbness overcoming her body.
William's mouth fell open slowly. His breath became caught in his throat. “The Titanic? Where is your mother?”
“I do not know, nor do I wish to know.” Her voice was low.
William stood and shook his head violently, not taking this information in. He himself had read the horror stories of the Titanic in the newspapers, the loss of over fifteen hundred lives. His face screwed slightly, not knowing what action to take.
“Jack...” Rose wept. Her hands covered her face.
William immediately came to her side, placing his arm around her shoulders and gently kissing her forehead. Her face was sticky from her tears; Rose immediately rested her head on her father's shoulder. She had not been comforted in so long. She had not felt affection from anyone other than Jack since her father had vanished from the DeWitt Bukater household. She felt the urge to ask so many questions.
“Rose...who is Jack?”
Rose paused for a moment. Who was Jack? Besides the love of her life, the man who had saved her from death so many times? The man who had lost the battle to live for her? Who was Jack Dawson to her? Not a husband, nor a fiancé, not even just a lover. “He was my Jack,” she whispered. The image of his smiling face entered her mind, the handsome face and boyish smile that had captured her heart for eternity.
“Rose, I cannot even begin to imagine how hard this is for you. But please, darling, talk with me,” William urged, placing his index finger on Rose's chin to raise her face to meet his. His eyes pleaded with her.
Taking a small sip from the hot tea, Rose felt the liquid soothe and warm her insides. She could not remember the last time she had drunk tea. Shakily placing the cup on the small end table beside the sofa she sat on, Rose took a deep breath. She could feel the warmth from the stove and the scent of the chicken soup cooking filling the air.
“I boarded the Titanic in Southampton on April tenth,” Rose began. That day was just ten days before, but her life had since changed dramatically. “After I became engaged to Caledon Hockley in February, he arranged for himself, my mother, and I to take a trip around Europe for our engagement. As a surprise, he also booked us tickets on the Titanic.” Rose proceeded to reminisce about the story of her journey on the Titanic, the way Cal and her mother had treated her, and how she had found love and freedom in Jack. William listened in disbelief and astonishment at his daughter's words. He felt anger at his wife, and even more so at Cal, the man he believed to be very respectable and to be trusted with his daughter.
“What happened to Jack?” William asked. He was almost afraid to hear the answer, somehow already knowing what the young man's fate had been.
Rose's lip quivered and she felt a single tear slide down her porcelain face. “The boats returned and the officer in the boat was shining a light over the ocean. He was shouting for anyone who was still alive. His voice was haunting.” Rose shivered. “I shook Jack's hand and called for him to awake, but he never did. His hand had frozen to mine and his body was so stiff. We had been in the water for no longer than twenty minutes, and it was in the last few minutes before I was rescued that he had gone!” Rose sobbed.
Immediately, William came to comfort his daughter, though he knew he wasn't much help to her. Nothing was. How could something like this have possibly happened? He hadn't appreciated the true tragedy of the disaster until this moment. Some men at the pub had even cracked a few jokes about the ship and the sinking. He now felt sick, knowing he had laughed at them. He held his daughter in his arms, feeling her pain. He knew that he would have to help her to become the woman she once was again, but he knew it would take a long time.
The End.