Titanic II: Revival (REVISING!)

008

Sleep was something that didn't occur to me in the final days I spent in the facility. I was too busy planning. To busy analyzing every exit, entrance and weak-spot in the building. Of course, this was going to be extremely hard. Dr. Johnson was a rich man, and had the best of the best security systems. But I didn't let that stop be. I couldn't let Jack rot in here. He was given a second chance, and needed to live it.

I heard a knock on my door at twelve in the morning. I was not sleeping, but instead, analyzing blueprints of the laboratory. The second I heard someone outside my rooms door, I hid my notes, blueprints, and closed all the tabs on my computer before getting up to answer.

I swung the door open to see Junior standing in front of me. "Junior? What is it?" I asked.

"It's Jack." He said, as if out of breath.

My heart seemed to stop beating when he said Jack's name.

No. Not Jack. Please let him be okay. I thought.

"What's wrong?" I asked, containing my worry.

He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong. He's just..." he paused. "Come see!"

Junior grabbed my forearm before pulling me out of my room and down the hall. I followed closely until we reached Jacks room.

He lead me to the window of the rooms door, and I peered through it. What my eyes bestowed upon, was something I did not expect.

All over the floor of the room, were papers from the notebook I had given him. Each one had a drawing. Either of a large boat, or a woman who looked like me.

Across the walls of the room were murals, all done in pencil.

One wall had a huge drawing of the Titanic. From the floor to the ceiling.

The other wall had a mural of the Titanic again, except it was sinking. Half of the boat was under water, and the other half was above.

The third wall was just an empty ocean. I'm guessing, after the boat sank. The drawing showed frozen bodies scattered across the water.

Jack stood on a chair by the wall, finishing the last touches of the third mural.

"He's grieving. He's been drawing for hours." Junior says as he watches in amazement. "I never knew he was such an artist."

"You don't know a lot about him." I muttered, which I instantly regretted because it made me sound as if I was hiding something.

"What do you mean, Rose?" He looked at me.

He caught me.

I bit my lip, swearing at myself in my mind. "Nothing." I shook my head, walking away.

"Rose, wait!" Junior said, stopping me in my
tracks. I nervously turned to look at him. "I'm not my dad. You can trust me."

I nodded. He was right.

I've known Junior for a very long time. I know him well enough to be sure that he is nothing like his father.

"We can talk in my room." I said, pointing at the cameras which were placed on the ceilings of the hallways.

He looked up at one of them, before nodding. "Lets go."

• • •

"So, your great grandmother had a thing with Jack Dawson?!" He asked, sitting cross-legged across from me on my bed as if he were a child listening to a bedtime story.

"Well to put it in simple terms, yes. They had a three day affair." I nodded.

"He's not your great grandfather... is he?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

I shook my head. "No. My great grandfather was a rich man who my great grandmother Rose was forced to marry and have children with. Jack is merely a stranger to our family."

He sighed. "Phew! That's good news."

I lowered my eyebrows in confusion. "Good news? How so?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him." He explained.

"It's nothing like that! The only reason he looks at me in such a 'way' is because I happen to look exactly like the woman he fell in love with 87 years ago." I told him strictly.

"Then how do you explain the way you look at him? Hmmmm?"

"Well, I guess I feel bad for him. He went through a lot, and now he's being out through more. Nothing more than a human trying to help another human out." I said.

He pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "You were the one who brought him the supplies, weren't you?" He said in a nosey voice, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes..." I admitted, looking down. "But it was only to help him!"

"How did you know he enjoys drawing?" He continued to investigate.

"I uh..." I bit my lip. "I snuck into his room and pulled an all-nighter by talking to him. Well... he did most of the talking."

"Hah!" I called out. "You don't just 'pull an all-nighter' with anyone!"

"Junior! Shut up! I was curious as to who he was! And stop making this sound like one of those high school crushes. This is different. He's 107!"

"But he's actually 21." Junior countered, causing me to groan in annoyance.

"Stop making this about me! I'm just trying to help
him! That's. All." I said sternly.

"Fine! Whatever you say, Dr. Bukater. Just saying that there's nothing wrong with liking him even the slightest bit. It's not like he's a relative anyway."

I rolled my eyes. "Friendly reminder that he's 107!" I said again.

"Friendly reminder that age is just a number!"

"Junior." I said, grabbing his shoulders. "Stop. It. You sound ridiculous!"

"Fine. Fine." He said, getting up from the bed. "Just saying." He raised his hands in surrender.

"Anyway! The reason I brought you in here wasn't to gossip about Jack and I's, so called, 'relationship'." I raised my fingers to make quotations and wiggled them when I said "relationship". "I brought you here because I need your help." I then stood from my bed, walking over to my best and opening the drawing which contained all the paperwork and blueprints I had previously stuffed in there.

"Okay... with what, exactly?" He asked, watching my every move.

I turned around to face him, holding the stack of papers of research I had. "To escape."