Unsinkable

You Jump, I Jump

The clinking of glasses and inconsequential chatter around Winter perfectly matched the interior of the first class dining hall of the Titanic. Everything around her portrayed sophistication and grace, from the delicate china to the chandeliers above. Even Winter herself fit in perfectly with the scene around her, dressed in a flowing yellow dress that went to her wrists and ankles in a fluttering splendor that caught one's eye. Not that Winter was trying to catch anyone's attention— she wouldn't dare.

From across the table, Winter's stepmother pointedly lifted her chin at Winter, and Winter raised her chin. She absolutely despised her stepmother— the woman who had swept in only days after the passing of Winter's mother and taken over everything. She was a woman filled with cruelty, whereas Winter's mother had been nothing but light.

Of course, even Levana would have been possible to bear if Winter's father was still around. She had grown worse in the months since Evret Hayle's death, controlling Winter's life with full reign. But now she had gone too far, forcing Winter into a marriage with a man she hated, and dragging her from her England home all the way to America.

"Are you alright, snowflake?" Aimery touched Winter's icy fingers with his own, moist, meaty ones. Winter hated that name. No, what she really hated was Aimery— the cruelest man upon the earth, and her fiancé.

For years and years, Aimery Park had circled around her like a vulture, waiting for the moment when her family was weakest— waiting to ask for her hand in marriage. He asked four times, and Winter had held out hope that he would forget her and move onto some other brainless rich girl who didn't care about love. But of course, he never did. It wasn't until Winter's father died that she accepted his proposal, begging her stepmother to allow her to say no.

Winter cried into her pillow for hours after her stepmother's verdict: "You must marry him. If you refuse, we'll both be ruined. How selfish are you to have opposed such a wonderful, rich young man for so long?"

So Winter accepted the proposal, plastering her brilliant smile upon her face while her heart shriveled up and died.

Suddenly, the room felt all-too small, as if she were trapped in an insect jar, and there were no holes carved into the top. She bolted from her seat, brushing off Aimery's hand and muttering "I need some air," before rushing out of the dining hall.

She burst forth from the crowded first class dining room and onto the deck of the ship, feeling the immediate chill of ice-encrusted air tearing through her chiffon dress like the vicious bites of an army of ants. She stumbled past a bench that held some lump of material, and toward the bow of the ship.

Her dress trailed behind her as a single speck of color in the night— a dash of sunshine within the dark. Dark tendrils of hair spilled around her face, the curls falling from her once intricately neat bun on the back of her head. But she didn't care about how she looked; no one was around to see her, and even if there was a soul upon the deck, she still wouldn't care.

Falling upon the railing, Winter released a wail into the night. Tears streamed down her face and into the black water below her. She watched as her own salty tears fell into the inky depths below her, and felt the pull towards the water, as if a siren sung below, calling her into oblivion.

As if in a trance, Winter pulled herself up upon the railing and over to the other side, setting her feet carefully on the very edge of the bow. Her shaking hands clutched at the railing from behind as she leaned forward into the blackness. If she let go, she would fall into oblivion.

"Don't do it," a voice called out from behind her, calm, yet warning.

Winter turned, her hands still clutching at the cold metal. Black curls flew into her eyes and onto the three tear-like scars tracing down her cheek. Her sunshine yellow dress flapped about her, making a loud whipping sound against the roar of the wind.