Serenity

The Suffocation

Rose had come so close to escaping her suffocated life. Too close. Or as close as she had actually wished to.

She mulled over whether the fact that Jack Dawson had saved her from jumping from the ship, and that he had done her a service in saving her life or if she had simply been left to suffer even longer.  Part of her was dismayed that she hadn't just been left to fall into the abyss below and be finally granted the freedom she so desperately craved. That part, though, was dull for now, though it was inevitable to return within the coming days. Despite this newfound quietude, she sensed it was still there now, skimming just beneath the surface, just somehow waiting to take in some air.

Jack had consumed her thoughts; especially how he had the power to compel her with just the intensity of his gaze. How her entire universe had quaked just with his ingress into her world just by touching her, setting her soul aflame. How his hands at her waist had given her the most comfort that she had ever deemed possible. Cal was a man who never stirred so much as a slight tumble within her tummy or her mind. 

Well that, as refined as it was, had been made clear that it was as much use as what mice were. There would never be a need for her to form an opinion, or to feel vehement of something aside from the colour of the flowers, or her gowns. Nevertheless something had occurred, her melancholy had lifted, even if it had only been temporary. She had been gifted a slow release of something that was not just mundanity, but that was before the fatigue set back in.

Rose's own life was laid before her like a formal banquet. The further the Titanic sailed, the closer she was to becoming Cal's wife. The closer she was to being trapped invariably. That had been the entire objective of ending her despairing life, for what lay ahead of her but misery?

Her and Jack were at such polar opposite ends of the world, it was almost a nonpareil as to what the purpose of their meeting could ever be. She felt it to be a meeting of which one would be unable to forget. 

Somehow, she had managed to invite him to dinner tomorrow evening as a way of giving thanks. For all she knew, he did not eat much, he appeared to be a man of limited means. Perhaps she felt sorry for him. Deep down, she knew that it was simply an excuse to see him again, a way to give her appreciation whilst in better spirits.

Glancing at the broken skin from the crab-fork, she ignored the sting and went to touch the collection of bits and bobs upon her vanity table, a soft tune playing from her music box.  She skipped past the tablets that had been prescribed to ‘calm’ her, to ‘soothe’ her melancholia and make her ‘beside herself with joy’. Instead, she picked up her dainty hand mirror and she looked at her reflection intently. She was seventeen. She was hardly out of her childhood and yet she felt decrepit at that moment. So weary, as though by knowing her future she had no use for energy and enthusiasm. 

However, as soon as she thought of the man who had saved her, she felt and saw her cheeks glowing, and something twinkled in her eyes. The first time her downtrod eyes had fully met his exuberant ones, she had felt something stir in her the pit of her belly, something which fluttered about almost like a butterfly that had been set free.

Recalling the dim light of the decks, she thought about how strikingly blue they had been. He had dazzled her and now, upon examining the situation, she wondered if that was the reason that she had struggled to focus on anything else since as soon as he had arrived. If she had truly wished to jump, in her heart, would she not have done it anyway?

Rose heard a knock at her door and wiped the mirror before gently placing it back onto the dressing table, casting her gaze into the larger vanity mirror in front of her to see who was entering. Cal stood in the doorway. As the door opened, he leaned against the frame casually.