Written by Rory
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
Rose Dawson Calvert had not led a
dull life. In her nearly one hundred and one years, she had followed her
dreams--she had been an actress, a wife, a mother, and all without fear. And
she had loved more deeply and passionately than anyone had any right to. That
love had given her so much more than just a hand to hold. It had given her
freedom; it had given her life. It had given them both a miracle. It had been
an improbable romance--she a first class lady, he a third class waif. Their
story was reminiscent of Romeo and Juliet, but the farthest thing from fiction.
He had been a living, breathing
man with a blue ocean of love in his eyes for a seventeen-year-old girl with
suppressed fire and passion in her own. He had unleashed that fire and passion;
had allowed her free spirit to soar. He’d never wanted to suppress her, but had
loved her for herself. He had merely been a man that loved a woman.
And yet so much more.
Jack had never left her all these
years, had never really been dead to her. He had been with her the day she’d
gone to the Santa Monica Pier and ridden a horse in the surf, he’d been with
her the day she’d been given her first audition as an actress. He had given her
the courage to take her life into her own hands, and run with it. And because
of that, she was where she was now, with a life well-lived and no regrets. She
had come full circle by returning to the place where it had all begun. This was
where it would end.
Rose had refrained from selling
the necklace all these years in anticipation of this moment. It was time to
return the heart to the ocean. It was time to finally give peace to all those
souls lost in the abyss of a sunken ship of dreams. That cold April night, the
ocean has been ruthless, without a heart, unforgiving. Amends would be made
between human and universe tonight. This necklace had been her only physical
link to Jack for so long. But she didn’t need it anymore. She realized that her
heart had been left behind with the man she loved, and that his love was still
alive in her. And that was more than enough. It was all she needed.
Rose DeWitt Bukater had met Jack
Dawson all those years ago on the back of a ship, and now she was returning to
him on the back of one, letting him know she was coming. Before the night was
up, she would be in Jack’s arms again. It was time. She stepped off the railing
and walked back to her stateroom. Her promise was fulfilled. She was an old
lady warm in her bed, ready to die. She had made lots of babies, she had made
it out alive that night, and most importantly, in all of those times it had all
felt so hopeless, she had never given up. The proof was on her nightstand. Rose
closed her eyes, took one last breath, and jumped.
Floating through the wreckage of
the great Titanic, in the deep, dark depths of the North Atlantic Ocean, was as
if she were flying. Light slowly began to envelop her and the ship. Fading away
like a memory was the algae and the rust and decay. The RMS Titanic was rising
from the ashes like a phoenix. The pearl white floors were beneath her feet.
The walls smelled of fresh paint. She was seventeen again, like her soul had
been all these eighty-four years, waiting for the moment when she would once
again be in the arms of the man she loved, where she belonged.
An impeccably dressed man smiled
in greeting and opened a door. Rose needed no direction. She knew where she was
going. The course had been mapped out in her being since the day she’d been
born. There were the faces that had remained in her mind immortal for more than
eight decades. Little Cora, safe in the arms of her father and clutching her
doll. Tommy Ryan, free of blood and fear, glowing…and Mr. Andrews. The last
vision she had, of a man resigned to going down with the ship he had built,
faded away. He was here, alive again, nodding a serene welcome to her. It was
as if no time had passed, as if the year 1912 had never merged into 1996...
Finally, she reached the Grand
Staircase. There, facing the clock, was the familiar figure of Jack Dawson that
she had painfully ached for for eternity. He had waited for her, counting down
to the time when she was fated to arrive. The clock chimed, and he turned. She
was finally, finally looking into his beautiful eyes. She was finally home. As
she climbed the stairs to meet him, there were no tears. Not this time, not
ever again. They would never again be separated. The young lovers were now
reunited, forever immortal.
His hand reached out for hers,
and she took it with no hesitation. Flashes of memory flew in front of her
eyes. Taking his hand so he could bring her back over the edge of death. His
cold hand covering hers, stiff and frozen. And now in heaven, hands entwined in
ethereal light. There was the zing of pulsing energy she had felt every time
they’d touched. How she’d missed it, longed for it. As their lips met in a
sweet kiss, their love enveloped them and all surrounding them. Hands clapped.
They were finally at peace; a wrong had finally been righted.
Jack and Rose had never needed
any good-byes. The two had always been destined to meet again. It was written
in the stars.
It was in their eyes.
The End.