Rebecca Iris Dewitt Bukater Hockley was born on January 10th 1912. I had delivered her on my own, with Trudy's help, in my bedroom, on a cold, stormy night. It wasn't an easy birth. The pains were sharper than Mother had described, and I felt like either me or the baby was going to die. She was born out of wedlock, but it didn't cause as much of a scandal as Mother thought it would. Cal and I were engaged, and, in the minds of people, also secretly married. To them, it was something completely normal, if not expected as well...

I knew what he wanted me to give him. A son. His refusal to see his child when he found out it was a daughter proved so. For the first month of her life, both Rebecca and I were kept locked in my bedroom, away from the eyes of people and Cal's wrath. Perhaps it was better this way. But the fear of Rebecca being violently taken away from me still existed. Even now, three months after the day she came to the world, and after everyone learned about her existence. Cal was powerful, he wanted a son, and I didn't give him that. What was more for me to come, only God knew.

As for now, I was standing on Southampton's port, surrounded by a crowd of people from all social classes. Today, we would board the so called "Ship Of Dreams", or, as it was differently called, the "Unsinkable Ship", the infamous Titanic. I wasn't that enthusiastic about it. At least not as much as Mother was. She had told all of her friends about our "luck" and "Cal's expensive gift", to book a millionaire's suite on board the grandest ship in the world. Of course, it was a very big ship, perhaps even bigger than the Mauritania, but, to me, it was nothing more than a slave ship. The one, that would carry me back to America, in order to live the rest of my life in Cal's invisible chains.

We were travelling back home after a long time in Europe, in order to get married in Philadelphia. During our journey, my daughter was also born. And she was here, with us. Trudy was holding her, and some other servants were carrying our last moment's shopping, so that we board the Titanic in the latest fashion.

I stared at the Titanic, trying to hide my awe.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about". I turned to Cal, who was standing behind me. "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania".

"You can be blasé about some things, Rose, but not about Titanic!" . He sounded offended, as if he had built the ship with his own two hands. "It's a hundred feet longer than the Mauritania!" he went on. "And far more luxurious!"

I looked at the ship once more. Mother commented on the ship, too, and Cal replied proudly. We didn't have any more time to waste. We were already late, compared to other first class passengers, and the ship would leave in some half an hour. As we all entered the grandest ship in history, Trudy was following me from behind, with Rebecca in her stroller. That would be my daughter's bed for the next few days, until we arrive safely to America. As I walked escorted by Cal, I couldn't avoid the stares of the other first class passengers. They weren't staring at us. They were staring at the stroller. Normally, children, especially babies, were always heard of but never actually seen, unless escorted by a nanny. The idea of my maid taking care of my daughter might have seemed disturbing to some, but there was nothing else we could do. Rebecca was coming with us.

Soon, with the help of some officers, we found our cabin. It was said to be one of the most expensive and luxurious cabins on the ship. To me, it looked more like a hotel suite or, may I say it better, a small apartment, which would comfortably accommodate a family of five. Mother and I didn't have to choose our bedrooms. They were all chosen by Cal. Mine was right behind his own. That meant, that every time I wanted to enter my bedchamber, I had to go through his first. Luckily, though, there was another door, may I call it a secret one, that lead directly to the corridors. Rebecca would be staying in my bedroom. Mother, of course, had her objections about this decision of mine.

"What if she wakes up in the middle of the night? You need sleep. Your body needs sleep. You can't wake yourself up every two hours!"

I breastfed. I hoped that was an excuse powerful enough to convince Mother. Thank heavens it did. She didn't say anything on that subject anymore.

The ship had already set sail by the time our luggage arrived to our suite. We never travelled light, and this was no exception. The only clothes I would need during this voyage, were all in one baggage. But I wasn't anticipating to that as much as I did for something else. The moment my art pieces arrived, I started to arrange them all over the cabin, so that it's not as boring as it already was. In the meantime, Mother was giving the maids directions, while Cal was shown the suite by an officer, a glass of the champagne we found in the living room table in his hands. Rebecca was still in her stroller, a few steps behind me. In the meantime, Trudy and I were taking my paintings out of their cases, and were placing them on the sofa, with me wondering where each would be placed for these few days.

"God, not those finger paintings again!" Cal's voice was heard behind me. "They certainly were a waste of money!"

"The difference between Cal's taste in art and mine is that I have some!" I knew it annoyed Cal whenever I talked as if he wasn't present, especially in front of the servants. "They're fascinating!" I went on, as a reply to his comment. Then, I turned to my paintings. There was the one I was staring at, one of the newest I had purchased before we leave, made from a young artist in the business. "This one seems like being inside a dream or something. There's truth, but no logic..."

"What's the artist's name?" Trudy asked. In all those years that she was my personal maid and friend, I had taught her what I knew about art, and she was as interested in the subject as I was.

"Something Picasso..." I replied. At that moment, Rebecca started to cry. I knew it was time for me to feed her. As I made my way to my room, Trudy walked behind me. There was no way Rebecca would be fed unless I got some help with my dress. In the meantime, Titanic was heading west to Cherbourg, and then Ireland, our last destination before we begin our voyage to America.

Sometime later, I was done. Rebecca was now reclining on my bed, trying to touch her feet with her tiny hands. I would stand still and watch her for hours, were we somewhere else, but now I had to arrange all the paintings.. Some had found their place in my bedroom, particularly one of a ballerina that was my favorite. Trudy was still with me, putting my clothes into the closet. She'd talk enthusiastically on the ship, and how brand new it smelled.

"Just think that tonight, miss, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first!"

We were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the door opening and Cal's voice.

"And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first."

With a quick motion of his head, Trudy walked out quickly, shameful. I knew what Cal meant by that. The night I had conceived Rebecca was the first night I had ever found myself in the same bed with a man. As I turned to face the ballerina, I took a quick glance of Rebecca. She was staring at her father as if he was a stranger. Perhaps that's what he was to Rebecca, after all. A father, that never showed the least bit of affection, that never even touched his own child.

My breath ceased for a moment, as I felt Cal's cold hands around my waist. There was no way I would do this here, in front of my daughter's eyes. I hoped that her presence was enough to stop Cal, but it didn't. I felt his breath on my neck and shoulder. Apparently, he was smelling my perfume. I tried to get away with this by kissing his cheek. Soon, I felt a weight on my shoulder and presumed it was Cal's head. I should feel relieved, for I knew that when he did that, nothing would happen. Instead, I turned to look at the ballerina, disgusted by Cal's touch, but his words wouldn't escape my thoughts.

The first and only. Forever...

Oh, Mother, of all the men in this world, why him?