Titanic

My name is Rebecca Thatcher, and I'm twelve years old. I'll be thirteen in July. I live with my mother and father in Manchester, England. Father is a schoolteacher; he's going to America for a sabbatical year of travel and study. One day in April, we rode the train to Southampton to board the RMS Titanic.

I remember walking up the gangplank of the huge ship. I know my mouth must have been hanging open in awe at the sight of it. I'd never seen anything that big in my life!

We checked in and were assigned to our quarters. Our cabin was nice. The walls were painted white and the furniture was brown.

"This looks good enough to be first class!" Mother said as she put away our things.

"It's the nicest ship I've ever been on," Father agreed.

As soon as everything was settled, I got out my favorite book, Rulers of the Twentieth Century, turned to my favorite page, and lay back on my cot to gaze at it. It was a photograph of the Imperial Russian family - Tsar Nicholas and his wife and children.

Tsar Nicholas looks almost exactly like King George! If they changed places, I'll be nobody could tell the difference.

King George has been our King for almost two years now. Before that, we had King Edward, and before that, Queen Victoria. She died when I was very small, so I don't even remember her at all.

Tsar Nicholas has always been the Tsar of Russia, I guess. His wife's name is Alexandra, and she's beautiful. They have five children, Grand Duchesses Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia, and the Tsarevich, Alexei.

The third daughter, Grand Duchess Maria, is just my age! I've always wondered what it would be like to change places with her, to live in a dream world of luxury and extravagance, to be waited on by servants, to go to fancy balls and meet important people.

Here on this mighty ship, the RMS Titanic, it's a lot easier to imagine.

I became so absorbed in my fantasies that at first I didn't hear my mother calling me, until suddenly I heard her call "Becky!", very loud.

"It's time for the evening meal," she told me.

Never before had I seen such a dining room. Rows and rows of tables covered with white tablecloths, with a balcony going all the way around the top floor and an impossibly high ceiling with light fixtures attached.

I could hardly eat as I kept gazing around. I even forgot to wonder what Grand Duchess Maria was eating in the Alexander Palace.

For several days, it was heaven. We spent our time listening to music, dancing, playing games, and meeting other passengers. Early in the morning on the fifteenth, when it was still dark, we were startled awake by loud, persistent banging on our cabin door.

"Put on your lifebelts and go to the Boat Deck!" someone shouted.

"What's happening?" Mother cried.

"Why, I don't know!" said Father.

Once outside our cabin, we nearly froze in the bitter cold.

"I want to go back to the cabin!" I whined. "It was nice and warm in there!"

"We'd best do as we're told, if we are to survive," Father said tersely.

All around us, our fellow passengers were also hurrying to heed the call. We were jostled about as we fought to make our way through the crowds. My toes were trampled on over and over again.

The lifeboats were being taken down, and people were tumbling into them. I had the terrible urge to run away, to fight my way back to my cabin; yet I was paralyzed, unable to move.

The next thing I knew, hands were pushing me into one of the lifeboats. Mother was right beside me; people were pushing her in along with me and innumerable other people. The heat of so many bodies being pressed together brought relief from the frigid cold, but the din from the ship's machinery remained unbearable. Added to it were the sounds of people screaming, babies crying, and waves splashing.

"Where's Father?" I screamed.

I received no answer. Mother's eyes were wide and crazed. I realized she was just as scared as I was.

The lifeboat was moving, drifting away from the ship.

"Wait!" I screamed. "We can't go without Father!"

The sound of my voice was quickly drowned out by all the other noises. I looked back and saw that the ship was listing to one side; it was sinking, and would soon be completely under water. I saw with horror that many figures remained on it; some ran frantically to and fro, while some jumped or fell into the water.

"Father! Father!" I screamed. Was my father among those who remained on the ship, or had he already fallen to his death?

I became aware of an unearthly sound, a keening, or baying, similar to what I imagined animals being tortured would sound like. Icy fingers crept up my spine as I realized the sound was coming from the people swimming in the water around us.

Several pairs of hands reached the lifeboat; I stared into wild eyes, completely inhuman in their bottomless despair.

"Please let me up!"

"The boat can't hold any more!" someone yelled. "If we pull you aboard, it will sink!"

Unearthly wails followed, a sound I knew I would hear in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

Eventually the boat drifted far enough away that the horrible sounds diminished. The pink fingers of dawn began to creep over the horizon. I looked around the boat and could see nothing but women and children. The oldest male was about my age.

"Where's Father?" I asked Mother. At last we could hear each other's voices.

"Oh, my dear Becky!" She clasped me to her chest, sobbing heavily. "We must be strong. We will see him again someday."

I developed an awful, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"He might be in one of the other lifeboats, Mother! We can't give up yet!"

She continued to sob without answering me, and I felt the last of my hopes ebbing away.

Suddenly I heard my fellow passengers cheering. I saw that another ship was near us. It was long, but not nearly as big as the Titanic had been. The name on its side was RMS Carpathia.

I felt no joy. All I felt was a curious numbness, a sense of unreality. This couldn't actually be happening. Surely I'd soon awaken to find myself still warm and snug in my cabin on the Titanic.

Surely I'd see my father again.