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-16th April 1912; approximately 3pm-Her hair is tied back in two messy pigtails. They were neat and tidy earlier that morning, but now only succeed in giving her the look of a lower-class Boston school-girl.
This is entirely acceptable, considering that’s exactly what she is.
She doesn't bother announcing her arrival when she steps through the doorframe; instead, she takes her time unlacing her surprisingly muddy boots. She can't remember how they came to be quite so dirty.
"Darling, is that you?" she hears her mother's voice sound from the kitchen.
"I'm home, Maw," she replies loudly, roughly pulling off the tight shoes. The boots used to belong to her older brother - hand-me-downs, as were the majority of her belongings - and he happened to have irritatingly small feet.
"Come in here for a second, before you get started on your school work. I need to talk to you."
The girl blinks, not sure what exactly she wants from her, but nevertheless walks loyally to the kitchen to find her mother sitting at the small kitchen table hunched over what appears to be the daily copy of the Boston Times; she recognises the cheap paper.
Her mother's blue eyes find hers; she's beckoned over urgently.
"Maw?" she asks, concerned when she sees the panicked look in her eyes. "What is it?"
"Come here, Kacey," is the only answer she gets.
The girl does so quickly, eager to curb the growing curiosity.
"Did you hear about this?" her mother asks quietly, sadly.
Kacey gives her an inquiring look. "About wha-"
She stops the question halfway through as her eyes catch the headline on the paper her mother is brandishing towards her.
She gasps, horrified.
***
"Come on! Hurry, you have to see this," he grins at me excitedly.
"What?" I snap at him, irritated. "Don't you get it, Boris? No, I don't want to talk to you anymore. Leave me alone, will you?"
He snorts, his eyes returning to the floor. "As if I care. Besides, that's not what I was talking about."
He pushes my shoulder rather roughly; I turn to glare at him. "Leave me alo-"
"Shut up, will you? It's nothing to do with you and your stupid girlfriend."
"She's not my gi-!"
"Shut up already! Come on though, a bunch of us are putting some money together to buy a copy. You want in?"
"What? What the hell do you want?" I quip, tired of him by now.
"Have you seen any of the papers this morning?" he asks me, his eyes shining with an unknown emotion.
My face blanks as I'm caught off guard. "That's not out of the blue at all," I raise an eyebrow, regaining some composure.
He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm. "Have you?"
"No."
"Well then, come on!"
Seemingly tired of me, he turns on his heels and strides down the street to where a bunch of our mates are waiting. I'm torn on whether to follow him or not; Karen (said 'girlfriend') would hate it if she knew I was still talking to him.
Still.
Curiosity wins out, and I rush after Boris. They're halfway to a news-stand by the time I reach them.
Boris glances to the side to see me.
"What?"
He smirks. "What about Karen?"
"She's a big girl. What she doesn't know won't hurt her."
He rolls his eyes again, but I spy a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He's pleased.
"Anyway, what's this whole news thing about?"
Jacob, Boris's best friend, answers. "What, you haven't heard!?"
"Jesus, Wilson. I know your family aren't huge on politics, but Jesus!"
I snort at Boris's added comment. "Shut up, Pole."
"Whatever, American," he sneers back affectionately.
"Read all about it!" the kid selling the paper says. "National headlines, be the first to know!"
"What?" I ask him.
He looks me square in the eye, and hands me a copy wordlessly.
I scan the bold print, and my eyes widen.
My breath catches in my throat. "Holy... shit."
***
"Maria."
I ignore him.
"Maria, listen to me. Please?"
I don't.
"Maria!"
I take a deep breath through my nose, trying my hardest to refrain from kicking him in the shin.
"I'm so sorry, Maria. Really, I am. God... It’s just so unbelievable," he says, almost as if he's not talking to me but rather to thin air; to himself, even.
I stay stock still, my back to the alley wall, my eyes staring at the ground stubbornly. "You promised, Sir. You promised me," I murmur quietly.
I hear him sigh. "I know."
"You broke your promise."
"The sea broke my promise for me, Maria. I had nothing to do with the building of the ship, but damn it, I wish I did. Irish buggers."
I snort. "Sir, with all due respect, the 'Irish buggers' created a fine ship. I wouldn't have settled for less for my sisters."
He notices the past tense, and leans his weight back onto the opposite alley wall behind him. I hear a shaky intake of breath. "I'm just as upset as you ar-"
“No!" I snap, my eyes snapping up to meet his shocked gaze. "No, you certainly aren't! It was to be the finest ship in the goddamn world! And it sank! It sank, it sank, it fucking sank!"
He's not surprised when I curse. Instead, he just leans forward, and takes my trembling hands in his larger, warm ones; my petite hands are completely enveloped in his comforting grasp.
"It sank," he nods, looking me in the eyes. His blue eyes are gentle, and miserable.
My tears overflow; I'm fighting hard to keep the sobs to a minimum. "Just children. They were just children..." I whisper as he pulls me into his chest, his left arm hugging my body to his warmth.
He says nothing but I feel his chest shudder under my cheek.
***
"Harriet, sweetheart! Harriet!"
"Yes, Mother?"
"Run along, tell one of the kitchen boys to fetch me the Boston Times, will you?"
"Of course, Mother, I'll be right back. Shall I use the change from father's coat?"
"Yes, yes. It should be fine."
***
"Mother," Kacey breathes.
"I know, Kacey. I know."
"But... I thought it was impossible! Are you quite sure, Mother? Are you completely sure!?"
"I'm rather certain, darling."
"But, the picture. The ship's so big. How could it have sunked?"
"Sank, sweetheart. Sank."
***
"Boris..."
He says nothing; no-one does.
"Boris, look at these figures!"
I'm still staring at the pictures.
"Bori-!"
"Shut up, Jacob, shut up!"
***
"Read all about it, folks! Read all about it! The Titanic sinks, 1500 die! The great ship Carpathia picks up 675 souls out of 2200 on board, races for New York, survivors of the Titanic mostly women and children! Read all about it!"
It's unbelievable.
"The Titanic, the ship of dreams, sinks - read all about it!"
