The sound of fifteen hundred voices turned into the sound of silence. The mighty ship Titanic sank away beneath the icy cover of the Atlantic waters. The voices weren’t strained or frosty, no. The voices were no more...gone...except for a few. A very small few, at that. One such girl, a redhead with startling blue-green eyes and still the sensitive age of seventeen. The girl could think of nothing but the pain. The pain that felt like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. All she could do was wait...wait to live...wait to die...wait for an absolution...one that perhaps would never come...
"Is anyone alive out there?" A lone voice penetrated through the eerie stillness. The girl’s ears heard it and she struggled to lift herself up.
"Jack...there’s a boat...Jack..." She spoke to her pale, blue-eyed, blond lover, though in barely a whisper, for her voice was overcome by the harsh bite of the air.
"Jack!" She spoke frantically, shaking him slightly, though part of her knew the outcome...the boy called Jack would not answer...his soul had left the land of the living world and the girl knew this. Silent tears fell down her delicate porcelain cheeks, her body laying back down on the makeshift raft, all but giving up hope.
In a moment’s flash, the girl’s eyes suddenly became wide as a flash of memory returned to her. Ice cracked as her hair tore itself from the wood of the debris. Her body struggled to move while the girl felt herself giving up once again, though she knew what she must do. Holding Jack’s hands in her own, she spoke. "I’ll never let go. I promise," she whispered, releasing his hand from her own. She witnessed his descent into the deep abyss as he left her world, and her heart cried out in anguish. She glanced around her, feeling sick to her stomach and sorrowful at the sight of the motionless men, women, and children surrounding her. She slid slowly into the cruel terrain of water and, using all the strength she could muster, the girl swam with what felt like the only strength she had left to one of the bodies lying still. She removed a whistle from Chief Officer Wilde’s lifeless, frozen mouth and blew into it as hard as she could. This time, she was heard.
"Row back! That way! Pull!" a voice from in the lifeboat called. The girl blew the whistle determinedly without stopping, until it was taken from her and her body hauled into the boat.
*****
The girl stood aboard the ship Carpathia, her face emotionless in the reality that was facing her. She barely felt the draping of blankets around her, and she drank the warm tea she had been given. A pair of eyes became fixed upon her, and the culprit soon approached.
"Yes, I lived. How awkward for you." She spoke to the owner of the staring eyes, pushing a strand of matted hair out of her own eyes.
"Rose...your mother and I have been looking for you—"
Holding up her porcelain hand, the girl, Rose, silenced him.
"Please don’t. Don’t talk. Just listen. We will make a deal, since that is something you understand. From this moment, you do not exist for me, nor I for you. You shall not see me again. And you will not attempt to find me. In return, I will keep my silence. Your actions last night need never come to light, and you will get to keep the honor you have so carefully purchased." She spoke, glaring at him with a stare both as cold and as hard as the ice that had changed her life forever. "Is this in any way unclear?"
The man did not speak for several moments, before–
"What do I tell your mother?"
"Tell her that her daughter died with the Titanic." She stood up and turned her back on him. He wasn’t sure what to make of this, and his confusion was evident, his face showing mixed emotions.
"You’re precious to me, Rose."
"Jewels are precious. Good-bye, Mr. Hockley." And those were the last words she ever spoke to Mr. Hockley, and the last time she ever saw him. For that, she was thankful.
*****
Rose stared up at the Statue of Liberty, rain falling on her expressionless face. The Carpathia was docking at Pier 54 as family and friends of survivors waited anxiously, officials and ambulances nearby with several hundred police desperately trying to keep the mob under control. Cameras flashed in people’s faces, with the reporters and photographers anxious to get close to the tired and saddened survivors. Rose continued walking with a third class group, clutching the woolen shawl that was around her shoulders.
"Name?" She heard an immigration officer speak to her.
"Dawson. Rose Dawson," she answered him, and as he walked away, Rose Dawson slipped through the crowd, anxious to get away.
*****
Rose clutched her jade butterfly comb tightly in her hands as though it was the most precious thing she had ever imagined. A man’s voice spoke to her.
"We never found anything on Jack. There’s no record of him at all."
Rose smiled slightly.
"No, there wouldn’t be, would there? And I’ve never spoken of him until now, not to anyone." She glanced at the blonde woman sitting near her. "Not even your grandfather." Rose spoke to her. "A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets. But now you all know that there was a man named Jack Dawson, and that he saved me, in every way that a person can be saved." She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the blue eyes and blonde hair of the face, which had belonged to a man she had loved with her every fiber.
"I don’t even have a picture of him. He exists now only in my memory..." Pain and anguish crossed her face, and Rose glanced at the faces around her, the faces so captivated and emotional from the words she had spoken. She longed to be alone with her thoughts, reflections, and memories.
When she was by herself again, Rose made her way slowly and delicately to the back of the Keldysh’s deck. Finally, she made it to the railing and leaned over. Another memory filled her as she stared at the heart-shaped diamond clutched in her hands. Reaching over the side of the Keldysh, she held it there for a moment or two before dropping it into the icy depths. "Oops," she whispered in a voice just above a whisper, though she had meant to let the diamond slip. She watched the Heart of the Ocean fall gracefully into the ocean depths before she turned and made her way back to her cabin, her long, white nightgown flowing behind her. As she lay in the cabin’s bed, Rose looked around at all the images surrounding her. Rose as a young actress in California, radiant...a theatrically lit studio publicity shot...Rose and her husband, with their two children...Rose with her son at his college graduation...Rose with her children and grandchildren on her seventieth birthday. A collage of images of a life lived well. The last image she saw was that of a younger Rose at the beach, sitting on a horse at the surfline. Rose remembered that day so clearly, and where that photo had been taken. At the Santa Monica Pier, with its roller coaster behind her. Rose grinned back at her image before closing her eyes and falling into a deep slumber.
*****
Rose made her way through the moonlight in a way that made her feel as though she was flying. The image of the Titanic in its watery grave filled her vision, and the echoing sound of waltz music filled her ears. It wasn’t long before the image in front of her became grand once again, and soon she was looking at the faces of handsome men, beautiful women, and gorgeous children smiling at her. The music became livelier as Rose spotted a man with his back to her. She approached him, and he turned to her. With a smile, she whispered, "I made it, Jack. I never let go...I never let go..."
Jack smiled a knowing smile and held out his hand to her. Rose fell into his arms, a girl of seventeen once more. All the people surrounding her, the passengers, officers, and crew, smiled and applauded in the abyss that was the Titanic. The two lovers had finally made it to where they truly belonged...with each other...always.
The End.
