Written by Cora
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
Something was about to happen.
Something amazing.
Jack Dawson knew this with
complete certainty. He could feel it. Sense it.
Something was going to happen
that would change his whole life.
What, he didn’t know. Just
something.
It was more than a wish, more
than a dream. It was knowledge. Intuition. How he was so sure, Jack didn’t
know. All he knew was that he knew.
"Jack, we cannot sleep
outside another night! We freeze to death!" said Fabrizio, who sat on the
stony ground, hugging his coat as tightly around his shivering body as he
could, huddling against the wall.
"It’s cold, yeah,"
agreed Jack. Despite it being April, the night air was still horribly bitter.
It stung Jack’s face, chilled him right to his bones, and a few months ago,
Fabrizio had suffered a cough so bad he’d nearly died from it. Jack knew that
if he hadn’t been around to nurse him through it…
But Jack didn’t dwell. He had
never been the pessimistic kind. Not even on nights like these where he was
forced to sleep under the stars after going for a whole day without a meal.
It seemed to be the way of Jack’s
life that whenever things got almost unbearable, something good would suddenly
happen and everything would be all right for a little while. The luck of the
Dawsons, his pa had once called it.
Pa had always told him he had
luck on his side.
"You’re meant for bigger
things, Jack," Pa Dawson had said one winter morning. Jack had just
finished a sketch of the wildlands around Chippewa Falls. Pa had been so proud
of it he’d actually found an old picture frame and hung it up on the wall for
all to see. It had made nine-year-old Jack’s day.
"You’ve got a wonderful
talent. Don’t ever let it go to waste," Pa had continued.
Jack had promised that he
wouldn’t. He’d kept the promise. He was an artist. Even if he made barely any
money and lived in the gutter, he was an artist. He was doing what he was meant
to do. He was following his dreams. Staying true to them was worth more to Jack
than all the money in the world.
"Just try and make it
through tonight," Jack insisted. He pitied Fabrizio. The Italian had been
away from his homeland for less than a year. Not used to such awful conditions,
Fabrizio had hardly survived his first winter in England.
"Why? Is always going to be
like this. I give up. Tomorrow I go back home to my mama!" retorted
Fabrizio, snapping slightly. He was usually a positive person, too, but like
everyone, he had a breaking point.
"You wanna go home?"
Jack sighed "And do what? What’ll you do in Italy? You did nothing before.
Every day was the same for you, right? What about America? Don’t you still
wanna go there?"
"America…" Fabrizio let
out a wistful sigh "So far…so far…"
"But not impossible,"
said Jack "Nothing’s impossible. Keep telling yourself that, okay? Nothing
is impossible."
"Nothing is impossible,"
Fabrizio repeated. A ghost of a smile graced his lips "Nothing is
impossible. I go to America. Someday."
"That’s the sprit,"
Jack patted his friend on the back "Try and get some sleep. You’ll feel
better after sunrise. Maybe we’ll even get to have breakfast tomorrow."
Jack waited for a reply. None
came. Fabrizio had already drifted off. Jack yawned and rested his head against
the wall. His eyes fell closed and unconsciousness washed over him, sweeping
him out of the cold and into the comforting warmth of his dreams.
The End.