My Story, The Titanic Does Lives On...
My Story, The Titanic Does Lives On...
Sounds of cars driving past the dusty window, and the laughter of drunken men below woke Rose in the early hours of the morning. The room was covered in a pale blue colour paint. Rose’s possessions, which only consisted of Cal’s worn jacket and the blanket she was given on Carpathia, were careful placed in a pile at the end of the bed. Rose was up at once. Her once delicate fingers fumbled around in the pockets of Cal’s jacket. The necklace was gone! A faint light reflected off the bedside table - the Heart of the ocean, the only thing which consisted of some value to her. Although, her mind was a mixture of thoughts. If she sold it for money, there would be a big fuss, and someone was bound to uncover her secret. On the other hand, she was penniless, with no-one to turn to.
Rose slipped out the door downstairs while the men were distracted by a beautiful woman. Looking back, Rose felt guilty. Trudy would be devastated. Rose had quickly slipped in and out of her life. It wasn’t right. But Rose had to leave, her heart was pulling at her mind. Trudy would understand what she had done. Rose knew Trudy could keep her dark secret.
The wind had subsided, as again Rose walked along the lonely streets, into the sunrise which was looming over the lapping water. Hours had passed when Rose realised where she was heading. The man in the car had been very helpful. He even gave her a lift to as far as he could go. The Santa Monica Pier was along way away.
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