CHAPTER 1 – A Night So Cold

Water that cold, like right down there…it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body.

The words that Jack had said to her just days before ran through Rose's mind a thousand times that night.

You can't breathe. You can't think.

It felt like a lifetime ago that she was leaning off the back rail of the great Titanic, about to end herself. Tears sprung to her eyes as the reality of what had transpired settled into her mind. So many lives had been lost. So many innocent people were now gone.

At least not about anything but the pain.

Jack had been right. Rose's whole body was so cold and stiff she could barely feel it at all. The stars shone bright above her head, clean and crisp. A shooting star dashed across the canvas of the night sky, and she thought back to when Jack had walked her back to the first class staterooms after the party. The shooting star they had witnessed then had been so beautiful. She wanted to tell him, remind him, but she couldn't seem to find the strength to talk, let alone move.

You can't think. At least not about anything but the pain.

Jack's hand stirred feebly in her own, and she drew in a sharp breath as the movement caused pins and needles to shoot through her fingers. She welcomed the pain; at least now she knew she was still alive. But death may be better.

"It's getting quiet," Rose said, hoarsely, to Jack. Ever since the magnificent ship had taken her final plunge, the screams of passengers in the water had been dwindling. The chaos of hundreds flailing about had quieted to faint chirping much like crickets, and had now almost stopped completely. Even Officer Wilde, who had been profusely blowing his whistle moments ago, had succumbed to the frigid water. He was already beginning to turn blue, and ice rimmed his lifeless face.

"It's just g-gonna take a c-couple of minutes to get the…b-boats organized." Jack replied. "I don't k-know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter t- to the White St-star Line about all this." He said, voice shaking. Even through his shivers, Rose could make out his familiar joking tone of voice as he tried to lift her spirits. But it was barely there.

"I love you, Jack."

"Don't you do that." He said urgently. "Don't you say your good-byes. Not yet, do you understand me?"

"I'm so cold." Rose said. She could almost feel the life slipping away from her. Everything felt distant until Jack's firm voice brought her back into reality.

"Listen, Rose. You're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on, and you're gonna make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old... an old lady warm in her bed, not here. Not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?"

"I can't feel my body." She said, her voice cracking. She felt tears well up in her eyes and begin to freeze around the rims.

"Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me... it brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful." Jack said. He gripped her hand tighter, as if his touch would imprint his next words into her mind. "You must do me this honor. You must promise me that you'll survive, that you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise."

"I promise."

"Never let go." Jack said, kissing her hand. His breath became ragged and quick as he slowly treaded water.

"I'll never let go, Jack. I'll never let go."

…

"Come Josephine…in my flying…machine…" Rose had long since lost track of how long she and Jack had been in the water. Every second was bringing her closer to death, and she knew she could not hold out much longer. "And it's up, she goes…up she goes…" With every exhalation, Rose's breath hung in the air. There were no sounds now. All those who had gone into the sea were either dead or dying. Rose was one of them. Nothing registered in her mind, nothing except the lyrics. "Up, she goes…" A small flicker in the very corner of her eye made Rose blink. It took every bit of her remaining strength to turn and face the small light. The beam blinded her eyes, but she fought the temptation to shut them. Through the freezing air came a voice that Rose could barely hear. It sounded as if someone was trying to speak underwater. Slowly, the world came into focus until she could make out a man with a flashlight, slowly paddling through the field of bodies, looking for survivors.

"Is there anyone alive out there?" He called. "Can anyone hear me?"

Rose painfully twisted around on the piece of wood to face Jack. "Jack," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jack. There's a boat, Jack." He gave no answer. "Jack," she said, shaking his arm. "Jack! There's a boat! Jack! Jack." No. No. This couldn't be happening. Not Jack, whom she'd met just days ago…not Jack whom she had fallen in love with. Not Jack, whom she had made love to only hours before. Jack could not be dead. "Jack…there's a boat." She said, as tears began to pour down her face.

"Is there anyone alive out there?" The cry came again. "Can anybody hear me?"

"Rose looked up. Yes. There is someone alive. "Come back," she croaked. "Come back!"

The tiny lifeboat began to turn away. "Come back!" She faced Jack again, and tearfully pried his frozen hand off of her own. "I will never let go, Jack. I promise."

And with that, Rose watched as her one true love slowly sank into the great abyss, never to return to her again.

…

Shaking and shivering uncontrollably, Rose slid off of the raft and clumsily dog-paddled over to the corpse of Officer Wilde. Trembling with cold, she grabbed his whistle from his mouth, her only hope of survival, and blew into it as hard and as loud as she possibly could. After what seemed like an hour, Fifth Officer Lowe's lifeboat appeared. The men pulled Rose up into the boat and gave her a blanket immediately. She was so cold, and she felt like death. Only five others were rescued from the ocean's cold clutches, nobody Rose knew or cared about. The only person she wanted right now was gone forever.

Rose stood in the rain as the ship that had rescued the 705 Titanic survivors, the Carpathia, streamed by the famous Statue of Liberty in New York. The former Titanic passengers felt no joy, however; most were mourning the loss of a friend, family member, and in many cases, husband. Even the children were subdued, solemnly tossing jacks on the deck or halfheartedly dealing cards.

A steward carrying an umbrella, presumably from the Carpathia, pointedly walked to Rose's side. "Can I take you name, love?" he asked cordially. Rose looked at him, expressionless. She paused for a moment before telling him, "Dawson. Rose Dawson."

"Thank you."

It was all she could do. She put her hand in her pocket, realizing with a jolt that she was still wearing the coat Cal had thrown on her, it seemed, so long ago. Something cold and hard met her fingertips. Puzzled, she grasped the object. Out of her pocket came le Cœur de la Mer, the Heart of the Ocean, the diamond necklace Cal had presented her with. Heart pounding, she stared at it. Raindrops slid down her only memory of the grand ship that now lay at the bottom of the Atlantic, and she placed it back in her coat pocket, overcome with emotion.

Nothing would ever be the same.