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

When I was a child, I used to take my cousin's hands and we'd spin in a circle, laughing, going faster and faster until the world around us was reeling, too, and we couldn't keep our feet. It made me feel giddy, and faint, and ill, all at the same time...rather like I feel at this moment. I am here, in New York. I made it...but without Jack. Without hundreds of them.

It's raining, and all I have is Cal's coat. It's getting soaked through. Mother would tell me I'm going to catch cold.

I've been colder. I remember how my teeth chattered and I couldn't feel my own toes. The only place that stayed warm was where I had been gripping Jack's hand, and I clung to it until I couldn't feel anything at all.

How can I forget? How can anyone go on with their lives, breathing, eating breakfast, playing badminton, anything? How do you do that after you've seen such horrible things, after your heart has been torn out?

I will try. For Jack, and for all those people who never got to live their new lives here in America. I'm going to do all those vulgar, unladylike things my mother was afraid of, just because I can.

Like spitting. I can't help but smile at that. Thank you, Jack.

I look up. The Statue of Liberty is standing there, holding her torch up in the dark and the rain. Suddenly, the world is a lot bigger than I thought. Almost too big. Where should I go? What should I be? I feel as if I'm right back on that piece of paneling, floating along in the middle of the ocean and looking up at the stars. My hands are freezing again, partly weather, and partly memory. I shrug deeper into Cal's coat and put my hands in the pockets, feeling very alone.

In an instant, all my doubts vanish out of my head. The Heart of the Ocean is in my pocket. Pulling it out, I stare at the stone. How did it get there?

I feel a strange sense of relief, and I want to cry. Something survived that awful night. Something of Jack and me, and it's wrapped up in this stone. I remember the way he looked at me when I wore it for the drawing. I remember the way he laughed when we danced, and the way he kissed me, and the million other things he did that made me smile, and laugh, and love him.

And I realize I'm not alone. Jack is still with me, and we're going to live. Every day, every minute, every second. Whatever I do.

For you, Jack. I'm going to make it count.

The End.

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