Star-Crossed | Jennie Kim

mister thomas

The days inside her house seemed infinite and endless after the bombshell was dropped on her. It was not much of a difference, her being locked up in the house doing nothing was just like any other day, only this time the young girl was hyper aware of the fact that these were the last days living in England. A life she struggled to get used to, and now lived in peace with.

Ever since that gut-wrenching conversation with her mother took place over breakfast, Jennie had been dreading the time for her to board that dreadful ship to embark towards her horrible future. 

She couldn't believe it.

The young girl had woken up earlier than usual to get ready for the trip towards the bay. Her mother had kindly reminded her to be ready by 6:00 a.m. on the dot, nice and polished with her big diamond ring on her finger. She needed to pretend she was glad with the damn heavy thing overshadowing her.

The early birds didn't chirp that morning. Almost as if they knew this was a sad and bitter goodbye from her "calm" life in England. She kept looking outside through her window, hoping to see the usual birds chirping on the tree branches, but there was nothing.

A soft knock sounded out, and she slowly spun on her heels. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she turned around to meet the soft eyes of her maid, "Miss Jennie, Mrs. Kim has told me to call you down."

Jennie studied the woman's pale face and nodded, beginning to walk towards the door with a heavy feeling on her chest, "Is he here?"

Nira nodded, almost apologetically, "Yes, Miss. Mister George Thomas is here."

Jennie nodded and strode by, trying to keep her head high, "Thank you, Nira."

Both ladies walked downstairs. Nira with her maid dress and Jennie with her long black dress and black Merry Widow hat. It would help shield her pale face from the sun and to hide her solemn look from onlookers enthralled by their status at the docks.

As they reached the wide living space, Jennie's two feet were planted on the light brown rug with intricate golden swirls. She looked at her mother and then at her future husband to greet them, but the tall man interrupted her.

"My, my, my... are you going to a funeral darlin'?" George asked, his loud proud voice making the young woman fight off a sigh. He had a thick cigarette on his hold and a teasing smile on his white face.

He looked over at Ella, who was standing straight, that damn smile on her worrying Jennie. "Ella, does your daughter know we're about to board the grandest ship in the world?"

Ella nods once, brown eyes still glued on Jennie, who kept looking between them confused.

"Yes, she does."

George nods and looks at the uncertain woman, "Have you no other elegant dress, my love? This is a moment of celebration, not a funeral."

Jennie seemed insulted.

She looked down at what she was wearing. It was a black floral dress with a lace belt around her hips, making the illusion of the most desired body shape. She had on her black heels, black lace gloves, and her neck and ears were adorned by the finest pearls.

"I thought this was fine..." Jennie began, but her mother shaked her head, her voice cold and firm, "Change now, Jennie."

Jennie was about to claim there was no time, but Goerge's voice stopped her, "Go on, dear. We'll be late if you stall further."

Jennie had no choice but to turn around and go upstairs with Nira again, leaving her mother and her future husband downstairs waiting for her.

George Thomas was the heir to a mining and railroad company that had a lot of profit these last few years, so the man was practically swimming in money. He was a very tall man with heavy European features. His nose was sloped, his lips were thin and bright pink, as were his cheeks. He had light gray eyes and smooth blond hair.

The perfect man to wed her... according to her mother.

Up in her bedroom, Jennie removed her black Merry Widow hat and threw it on top of her bed, "This seems like a bad dream."

Nira smiles while opening the lady's huge closet door, trying to find something she might like, "You mean a nightmare, miss?"

Jennie nods, as if she were deep in thought, "Y...yes, a nightmare. This is all a damn nightmare. I'm sure when I wake, I'll be happy somewhere far away from all this."

Nira was about to speak, but the young girl began moving towards her, her black heels knocking rhythmically on the wooden floor. "You know, Nira. Last night I had a beautiful dream... it was just me and this person. They had a very sweet voice, and we were both overlooking the ocean and talking about nothing. We were enjoying some ice cream... which you know my mother detests, and I was laughing so much... it was insane. We both hate caviar, and luxurious parties, we had a lot in common. And I was happy. I was really happy, so I hope I'm enjoying a life like that in another universe."

Nira looks over at the young lady, noticing her sad smile, and she grins, "Maybe you'll meet a friend onboard the Titanic, many people from many different places will be onboard."

Jennie picked out her other dress, a light pink with white, and sighed, unable to prevent a small smile to graze her lips. "Knowing mother, I'm going to spend all the voyage in my suite. I don't know why she shelters me so much, now thanks to her... I can't even do anything on my own without feeling lost."

Nira giggles, "Miss, why don't you try sneaking out?"

Jennie begins to undress, getting help from her trusted maid, "What?! Sneak out? I couldn't possibly..."

Nira nods, tying the back part of the dress, "Kids from my humble neighborhood did that all the time."

"And... and how do you do that? What do I need?" Jennie asked, putting back her black heels and getting some white ones.

"Oh, miss... you don't need anything. Just be quiet, sneaky, and observant, and I'm sure you can get past your mother and mister Thomas."

Both young ladies giggled and walked down quietly.

When Jennie came into view, George stood from the couch, marveling at the youthful sight of her. This time, the young woman looked happier with the thought Nira had placed in her head. She smiled at her mother, who nodded only without saying anything else.

"Now you look like an angel. Titanic's angel!"

George turned around to see Ella, "Shall we go?"

Her mother slowly stands and looks at the taller man, "Why, yes. We can't afford to be late."

And Jennie left her house with a quick and last glance of the living space, secretly hoping America was easier on her.