Continuous Titanic Story Use Your Imaginations

M

Mike Shetina

Guest
Imagine you're on the Titanic as a passenger in first class. Put down your ideas as to what you would do during the voyage in story form and describe your encounters with other passnegers. We could keep this story going and going, right down to the sinking. Just thought this would be something new to try out!
Hope It Works Out,
Mike Shetina
 
The purser asked for my name. "Amy Sheffield," I replied. It was the first lie I had ever told, for Sheffield is my mother's maiden name. My real name is Lady Amelia Stewart, the Countess of Rochdale. I am fleeing my home, Wycliff Hall in Lancashire, and an arranged marriage between myself and the wretched, philandering son of the Duke of Lancashire, to whom my father owes a great debt.
It was fortunate that I was able to book passage on the Titanic at the last minute. My brother gave me money to make my escape to America and to friends there. I am hoping no one I know recognizes me while on board this beautiful new ship. They tell me there is a Marconi room aboard, and I would hate for anyone to telegraph my father of my whereabouts.
Let me catch my breath. I held it all the while aboard the boat train from London.
Yes, this is a magnificent ship. As I slowly make my way through the bustling crowd of happy passengers along the Promenade Deck, I am in awe of the length of this magnificent ship. There is a lovely cafe with ivy growing up trellises, and beautiful white wicker furniture. If the weather holds, I shall enjoy sitting here in this intimate atmosphere.
Oh, my goodness! Such a grand staircase! And the mahogany wood shines like glass. I should think the staircases of Windsor Palace are pale in comparison.
Ah, here is my cabin. C-40. So close to the staircase and elevators. How convenient. Queen Anne decor, I think. Very comfortable. What's this? Is that the Countess of Rothes coming this way? Her cabin must be close by. Oh! I mustn't let her see me! I wonder if she would recognize me from King Edward's Christmas party two years ago? Oh, dear! I knew I should have booked a second class cabin!
Wait a minute...she's asking the steward to move her to another cabin on the upper deck. That was close!

Next chapter, anyone?
All the best,
Kyrila
 
I've spent the past two hours wandering the ship more or less aimlessly exploring all the sights to behold. I couldn't help but think...

...those are some of the best lavatories afloat!

Josh.
 
I think I may be able to relax and enjoy this journey soon, or have I only been lucky not to have been discovered. I am very curious though, I wonder what it is like in third-class? Does any of the exquisite decor of my world continue down below. Maybe that can be my escape from someone recognising me, no-one would know me down there. Yes I will, I will go down there now, for I don't know exactly when I may need to know the way, a quick dash down these corridors could get a girl lost in no time. These stairwells are so narrow, all cold and noisy. I must remember which way I am going so I don't get lost, I can't imagine I would like to be lost down here. Ooh, this must be the dining room, it looks like the one from my bording school, white table cloths on long tables, I wonder what they are served for dinner, by the smell from the kitchen, I'd say a dish with cabbage. I should probably make my return to the top the smell is making me hungry, and it might be time for lunch. Now how do I get out of here.....
 
Kyrila, sorry to say but your C40 cabin is not in the Queen Anne style. It was simple white enamel walls, small but very nice! Also, the Countess would have moved from C37 but to another cabin on the same deck. Sorry to be such a 'rivet counter'!
happy.gif


Daniel.

PS. I emailed you about buying your book but you never replied
sad.gif
 
I stood there uncertain for a lingering moment. I watched helplessly as this Sheffield woman was hounded mercilessly by the ship's designer.

I made a mental note not to ever comment on the decor as I ducked around a corner.

Josh.
 
I stood there a moment and watched as the designer was hounded and questioned mercilessly by this man with a beard and a pony tail. Dressed funny too. Rather like a cowboy out of America's West. The good Lord only knows how he managed to afford the price of first class passage, yet when I saw him later that evening, he was entering a cabin on B deck.

The odd thing was that Mr. Andrews appeared to enjoy his company. Even more peculier was that while he looked like a cowboy, he appeared to have the knowladge, insights and experience of a sailor.

Strange.
 
I was enjoying the fresh sea air as I meandered about on the promenade, when I noticed a young couple indulging in a spitting contest.
Disgusted, I approached them and told them to desist before it suddenly dawned upon me that they were obviously fictional and could not help their vulgar display of late twentieth century showmanship.
Bally hell! I thought, the way things are going all us first class passengers will become narrowminded old fogeys with no sense of fun or morality, and then things will probably become really ridiculous and exaggerated, like the ship sinking or something.....
Oh well, back to the brandy!
 
the sea air reminded me of my hunger and I returned to my cabin to prepare for luncheon. Then thought occured to me that I was a woman travelling alone, how could I enter the dining room later for dinner without appearing conspicious? I may be recognised by one of my fathers aquaintances and then my presence would be questioned. A scandal! I sat on my bed to ponder my predicament.
 
I passed a rather large mouse in the hallway today. It nodded at me cordially, and I was all right with that. But I wondered who could actually bring themselves to wear a polka dot skirt of that manner to sea? Why, that's simply unheard of.

Josh.
 
(From the diary of Catherine Morgan, physicist and Titanic historian)...

I knew there were risks, both in coming to 1912, and booking passage on the Titanic. Like anyone, I know her fate. And I've put myself through anguish, looking into their faces, knowing which ones will live, which ones will not.

But I had to come...the visions, the nightmares, I couldn't take it anymore. You can only hear the screams so many times, can only cry so much, before you have to confront it. I've run away from them...for too long.

I need to be here...I need to be there, on the night the world ends...That's the only way to put the ghosts to rest. And give me peace.
 

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