Fall, 1915
"When did it get so dark in here?" Rose asked suddenly. Jack looked around. She was right. At some point, unnoticed by either of them, night had fallen. Almost as if on cue, his stomach growled.
"I don't know, but are you hungry? I know it's kind of a weird thing to ask, but…"
"Actually, I am," Rose said.
As they devoured the sandwiches Jack quickly threw together, Rose continued her story. "So, I thought I'd never get out…"
January, 1913
They'd put her in solitary confinement again. She was a danger to herself, they said. It didn't matter if she'd smashed the window in her room because she wanted to use the glass to slit her wrists or if she'd smashed it because she was searching for a way to escape. The result was the same.
"You should know better than this," Erik scolded her as she was carried to what the doctors called the quiet room. And she had to admit that he was right. She'd done it three times before. The same thing had happened each time.
Now she lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling. It was padded, just like the rest of the room. There were no windows. Being in there was like being completely cut off from reality. It was impossible to maintain any sense of time. Days passed like minutes. Weeks like hours.
Of course, since the sinking, she'd barely bothered to keep track of time at all. She knew the season had changed because the people she saw out her window were wearing different clothes. She couldn't have named the day or the month. Sometimes it seemed as though she'd always been there, especially after she'd been in the quiet room for awhile. But always, just as she was on the verge of agreeing with the doctors, of saying, "Yes, it is all a delusion. Cure me!" they would let her out again.
Except this time they weren't. She didn't know how much time had passed, but she knew, somehow, that it had been much longer than usual. "They're trying to drive me out of my mind for real," she said aloud to herself. Her voice echoed in the empty room.
Maybe you should just give in, her mind said.
"What?"
It would get you out of here.
Rose considered the idea. It was true. Telling them what they wanted to hear would probably be the quickest way to get out. "But I can't do that. I can't let them win," she said.
Why not? Who cares if they think they're right? You'll be free.
"Free to do what?"
Anything. Don't you get it?
"I don't care."
You should. Do you think Jack died so you could just rot in a place like this?
"No, he didn't." Rose jumped to her feet. "No. No, he didn't." She began kicking the door as hard as she could. Eventually, someone would notice and come see what the delusional girl was up to. "And when they do, I'll say whatever they want."
Fall, 1915
"So, you got out?" Relief passed over Jack. He'd momentarily forgotten the state she was in when he'd found her.
"Well, that was what I was trying to do, but it turned out the second I was willing to say it was all in my head, they were willing to believe me…”