Written by Balooie
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
It’s started to quiet down. I can
still hear Rose humming along to a familiar tune, but it hurts to much to talk
now.
It’s so cold, but I don’t want to
worry her, so I keep my mouth shut. I’m getting tired, but I know if I go to
sleep now, it’s for good.
I need something to keep me
awake. I’m going to go over the letter I am going to send to the White Star
Line. I know how it will go, but anything to keep me awake is good.
Dear White Star Line people.
Wait. That sounds unprofessional. To whom it my concern at the White Star
Line...wait. Who am I kidding? I don’t need to sound professional. I’m sending
a letter to bitch at them for crashing the ship I was on, so now I’m pissed
off. It doesn’t matter if I sound lame. It’s their fault I’m floating next to a
piece of wood.
So here goes.
To whom it may concern at the
White Star Line boat place. My name is Jack Dawson, and I think it is highly
inappropriate that your stupid ass ship didn’t have enough lifeboats, and maybe
you should look into buying a couple of spare sets of fucking binoculars! I think
it kind of sucks that I had to float around in the water waiting for a
Goddamned boat to hopefully come back for us. Us being me and Rose, the love of
my life.
You see, Mr. White Star Line guy,
I met her on this ship. I won a game of poker in a pub across the street from
the pier. Some dumb fuck named Sven bet his tickets, and he sure was a smart
one. But anyways, I got on the ship with my friend, and we took the places of
Sven and his pal. I think our roommates were a little confused, but…oh, well, that’s
not my problem.
But on this ship I met Rose.
She’s beautiful, you know. I saved her from what’s his face--my memory is going
a little blank right now. So anyway, I met Rose and saved her from--what’s his
name again? Cal. I think I wrote that twice, or I think I might write it twice
when I do write it, but for now I am floating in the water next to a board with
Rose. Have I told you about Rose? She’s beautiful. I met her on the now sunken
ship. I saved her from...
My memory is getting a little
fuzzy, so I’m going to wrap up this letter. So keep up the good work. I
mean…no…wait. What is this about again? I think I might remember in the
morning. Can I get back to you?
What the hell? I mean, how can I
get back to you? This is a conversation in my head; I’m just trying to pass the
time until the boat comes. Rose is next to me. I’ll get her to say hi to you
guys in the letter.
Wait. Who are you guys? Who am I
supposedly talking to? Right. The White Star Line people.
Build better ships. Okay. I can’t
concentrate. I think I’ll take a nap. The boats will wake me up when they come,
so good day to all of you. Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to
read this poorly written letter.
Sincerely, Jack Dawson.
Yeah. That’s how the letter will
go if those damn boats ever get here! I think I’ll just close my eyes for a
minute or two.
"Rose," I mumble.
No answer. I guess I said it too
quietly. Oh, well. I’ll tell her I love her after my nap. But now, now I need
my well-deserved rest.
"Jack...." I hear Rose
saying something. A boat? I don’t know. Maybe it was my imagination. I’m too
tired. Way too tired.
My eyes are closed, and they’re
rolling around into the back of my head. I’m not cold anymore; I actually feel
warm, like I’ve been plunged into hot water, pins and needles, pins and
needles. It feels so good; I hope Rose is feeling the same thing. It’s
unusually bright now, too. Is it already morning? I feel well-rested. And I
think I could get used to this.
The only problem is...where did
Rose go? Is this hell I’m in? Why would they take away my only love?
Only time will tell.
The End.