Oceans Anchor

Oceans Anchor

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, May 13, 2015
On board the Titanic with her mother, 13 year old Madeleine Violet Mellinger is having the time of her life in 2nd class. Along the way she meets a 15 year old Bellboy whose name is Arthur Barratt. It was love at first site. The days they spent together was there happiest. On the night of April 14, they make there way to the deck fighting for their love and lives. Will they be rescued from the doomed ship? Or be destined to be lost to the unforgiving ocean? * PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION! WHILE SOME PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS ARE REAL (OR HAVE BEEN), THE LOVE STORY BETWEEN MADELEINE VIOLET MELLINGER AND ARTHUR BARRATT IS FICTION!!! IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THE STORY OR WONDERING WHAT IS REAL AND WHAT WAS FAKE, PLEASE MESSAGE ME OR COMMENT. IF I DON'T ANSWER WITH IN TWO DAYS TRY AGAIN!!! YOU CAN ALSO GO TO http://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/ *
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DIABOLIC SERIES 3 All my life I've lost my breath. It would happen over the simplest things, if I stretched too high to catch a ball, lifted something for too long, if I sneezed, if I talked. Other times I would loose my breath because I had a panic attack, or was yelling or being yelled at, if I was exerting myself on a physical level. Having the wind knocked out of me is a familiar feeling. But I didn't truly know what it felt like to loose the air in my lungs, loose the feeling that has kept my alive my entire life. I didn't loose it when I fell in love, I didn't loose it when I found out one drunken night with the girl I love would mean a baby, I didn't loose it when I found out that I'd actually be a father. No, I lost that when she told me that she doesn't love me. When she spit in my face how much she can't stand me, how I've ruined her life, that she doesn't want me in any aspect. I'm not her 'type' whatever that means, seeing as she quite willingly had sex with me. Her saying this made this ugly, lonely and depressing thought hit my diaphragm. Violet Thompson is carrying my child. And she despises me for it. The way I came to this conclusion was simple, Nonnie- -that's what I call her, since her middle name's Noel and I wanted something to call her that if I shouted it in the middle of a crowd, only she would turn to and know it's me- -told me that all she wants is someone there. A father for her baby, a physical presence. Not a mind, personality. Not a person. A body. A shell. I've been a dead man walking. And I was that shell, was just a body... until I found him.

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