Written by Alyssa
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.

I looked out into the ocean, taking in the scent--thinking of him. I always did this when I woke up. I never told my husband. He thought I was just thinking of how I got out alive--which he thought was already unhealthy of me. I sometimes felt like an adulterer, even though all I was doing was thinking of my past. Mind you--I loved my husband like I loved my firstborn son, but I still couldn’t stop thinking of Jack. Jack and I had known each other for less than a week, and we had already felt so close--so soon. When he saved my life and lost his own, I was in total shock. I was heartbroken.

"I’ll never let go..." I whispered. Those were probably the last words he ever heard me speak.

I turned my head away from the ocean, hiding my tears. I could just feel Jack’s presence when I looked at the ocean. Crying made me feel so...embarrassed.

I shouldn’t be crying like this, I thought. I should be happy I’m alive--happy with my husband.

Every other moment I had, dealing with anything in my life, I thought of Jack. Thought of what he would have said when I was doing something. Pictured his face instead of Henry’s when we made love. Pictured him smiling when I sat down to dinner.

God, I loved him. Why did you take him from me?

I had promised a very tough thing. Jack asked me right before he died to move on with life. Right afterwards, I was certain I would not move on. When I met Henry, I was still grieving. We both fell in love, but since I was so worried I’d lose him, too, I waited for such a long time to marry him. Learning to cope was hard, very hard. Coping--is that even right to do when someone dies? I never liked that word when I thought of Jack. Coping made it feel like he brought me this disease that I was trying to get rid of. Sometimes I thought of what would have happened if we both had died that night. He and I could be dining with the apostles, or kissing under, or over, the stars.

"Rose?" Henry called from behind. I looked over to see him strolling towards me. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just needed a little air, is all. I’ll be up in a minute," I said, looking back at the ocean before he could see the tears.

"Um…okay," he answered, shifting uncomfortably to the other leg. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I stated impatiently, maybe a bit too impatiently, because he made a sigh that sounded like he was hurt.

I’m hurt, too, you know. I had to go through a historical event that everyone always wants to talk about and lose the perfect man. I should be making the hurtful sigh. Me. Not you.

He walked back up the hill to our home. I looked back only for a second to make sure he was gone. Then I cried. I cried for Jack. I cried for our lives. I cried for Henry. Our baby. My love life. I cried and cried until I heard Henry’s car engine start up. He went to work.

I took the long way up to the house, and when I got there, I went straight for the bathroom sink. I looked at my face. My curly red hair was still messy from sleeping. I never brush my hair or even change when I go down to the shore. I just automatically get out of bed and grieve down there.

Once, I went down to the ocean and I actually dragged myself, half-asleep, into the water. It was up to my neck. I decided to just put my head in and wake myself up that way. However, when I opened my eyes underneath, I saw Jack, stretching out his hand for me.

"Rose?" I heard someone call.

*****

"Rose?" Lips were moving in front of me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I shook my head and realized it was Louise. Louise and I met at work. We had become friends so suddenly. Today, her, our husbands, and I went out to dinner. She was talking to me about something...I forgot all about what it was. She just sat there. Waiting for me to respond. Before she could call my name again, I answered with a hmm?

"I was just saying, wouldn’t it be great if we could go see that new silent film--"

*****

I floated back to the top of the water. I was freezing.

"God, just drown me already!" I screamed.

Seeing Jack was just my imagination, but it felt so real...of course it wasn’t. Ghosts are only in books.

Jack? Take me with you! I don’t want to live without you. I can’t stand this. I feel so alone, I thought.

Thinking about it now makes me realize how stubborn I was. Yes, I loved Jack, but I have to move on somehow. I have a family that needs me. I have friends that need me. I need me. Jack and I were only in love for a small amount of time. If I hadn’t loved Henry, I wouldn’t be married to him. We wouldn’t have had our little baby Thomas with us. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck to a chain, stuck being married, but I realize that everyone feels this way. Everyone goes through this.

But not like me.

I had gotten married at twenty-seven, had Tom at thirty, and Elizabeth at thirty-two. Now I am thirty-six and I already look over the hill. Okay, maybe not that much older-looking, but you’d swear I was in my forties. Even I couldn’t recognize myself.

Henry and I moved into the country, away from the ocean. Of all people, I was the one to suggest it. We bought a ranch and bred horses. Henry was already retired by that time, so we thought we might as well make life better by buying a ranch that could still keep us busy. Silent films soon turned into talkies, and I grew to adoring Grace Kelly. She could capture you with just the way she looked into the camera. The children grew up, and soon enough, both were out of the house. I felt lonelier. When Henry became ill, I was in tears for the whole month before he died and more than a year after.

So now I sit here, in bed, listening to the ocean. A group of historians and whatnot asked me to go back to where the ship had sunk, looking for the infamous necklace that my fiancé before Jack had given me. It was worth a lot. A whole lot.

They tried and tried and tried to find it, but had no luck. I told them about Jack, making them laugh, cry, show emotions that were the last I’d see. The night before we were going to leave, I walked out to the side of the ship and looked at the glassy surface of the water. It sparkled. It sparkled for me. Tonight was my last night on earth. I could feel it. I slipped my hand into the pocket of my nightgown and discarded the glittering necklace that lay on my wrinkled hand. It still looked new. I could just see it on my neck, in my stateroom, right after the dinner with the captain. I felt the necklace one last time, the smooth surface of it. Then I dropped it.

Back in my bed, I slept. I kept dreaming and dreaming and dreaming.

And then I saw him. It was Jack. My Jack. We were back on the Titanic. I felt so young. I looked young. Jack whispered in my ear.

"I’ve missed you," he said. "I’m so glad you’re back."

With tears in my eyes, I realized that I was gone. I had died. I was finally with Jack again. I looked into his eyes, his beautiful, amazing eyes, hugged him, and whispered to him, "I’ll never let go."

The End.

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