There were people everywhere. Third class passengers milling about, going through the health checks. First class passengers, with their expensive cargo and regal walking styles. I was travelling second class with my mother and fourteen year old sister, Annie, returning to Boston, where Father had remained to maintain his bakery. Simply put, I figured that the seven days aboard the Titanic would be unbearable - mostly, I just wanted to return home and eat some of Father's strawberry cake.
That didn't mean that the ship didn't awe me. It seemed gigantic, extending for miles, both across and with four boilers that reached the sky.
"Wow," Annie breathed, following my gaze. "Which deck is our room on?"
"The Upper Deck," Mama told her.
"Near the top?" She asked.
"Nope," I replied. "The sixth from the top. Our room is located along what the crew has taken to calling Scotland Road."
"Why couldn't we have a higher room?" She asked.
"Why are we carrying our own trunks?" I retorted.
"Right." She conceded. "But we can afford first class, can't we Mama?"
"Yes, but modesty is also important. We don't need to be surrounded by snobs with too much money for their own good." Mama replied.
"Couldn't we have taken first class, just this once? This is the maiden voyage of the greatest ship in existence. We're making history," Annie says, refusing to give up.
"You find yourself a rich husband, then you can travel first class all you want," Mama says with a chuckle, before guiding us to follow the rest of the crowd boarding the gigantic ship.
YOU ARE READING
Written in the Stars
Teen Fiction"We were meant to meet, it's written in the stars." On April 10, 1912, sixteen year old Emma Stuart and seventeen year old Harry O'Donoghue were complete strangers, merely two of the over 900 people who boarded the ill-fated Titanic at Southampton...
