Different class- a Titanic story

Everybody knows the story of the film Titanic... Jack and Rose.
A love that carried on, even after death, conquered... Defeated... And survived.

David and Lizzie, two different classes. One a thorough first class, his whole life filled with rules and obeying them. The other a free spirited young woman, the life of a party and every child's best friend.

Neither think much of each other to begin with, but feelings can change.

But can they survive on board the 'unsinkable' ship?


2. Sketching.

"David what are you doing?" asked his Mother as they all sat down one warm afternoon. David jumped slightly and flipped over a page in his sketchpad. Hiding his guilty expression he turned to face her. 

"Drawing the water mother" He said innocently, showing her a half finished sketch he had started days ago. Not sure when, maybe the first day? 

"Why have you drawn a bird? I cant see any here!" Asked his younger sister, Elizabeth, who for a seven year old was very observant. At all the wrong times. 

"There was a moment ago." He told her vaguely as he pretended to continue his sketching. 

"I preferred the one with the Lady on it... She looked pretty." Cursing his sister, inwardly of course, first class do not curse aloud David. His mother always said. Being 'first class' seemed to mean a lot more to her than just staying in fancier room than the others. It was a whole set of rules and code of conduct, to be observed at all times and all places. 

David had not, as he wished his family to not believe, been drawing the sea. He was in fact sketching that girl. The red headed one. He did not find her handsome or even remotely appealing in any way, it was more of the challenge she presented to draw. Her constant movement and energy, made her an interesting sketch. 

Back in England, he used to occasionally design a portrait for a friend or family member, but they all sat so still and stiff... They made all of his work look wooden and not alive, whereas this girl truly looked alive and most definatley not wooden in his sketch pad. 

When he drew others, their hair pinned back clothes pressed and no smile present, it never looked as good. She had loose hair, eyes seemingly ever laughing and was always doing something. Unfortunately it also meant he very often had to start a new drawing quickly as she was never still... Or stiff. 


"Whats the meaning of this David?" Questioned his mother, sounding curious. Not angry or concerned, just curious. Her question dragged him from his musings and he turned once more to face her. 

"Oh the other day I decided to sketch a few of the people on deck." Feeling this not a good enough explanation for his sudden interest in people, he quickly added. "I grow tired of landscaping Mother, I did not think you would want me troubling you with my trivial requests." The lies rolled easily off his tongue now, " You know Elizabeth, anything feminine in the slightest and it gains her approval!" This was a true statement, so his Mother smiled nodding and returned to her conversation with her friend Juliet.

David decided to take a walk, and dismissed himself. 


Lizzie scooped up one of the young boys and galloped around with him, making the gurgling noises appropriate for a monster. The boy was called Thomas, and he had a fixation with monsters and such. Upon learning this, Lizzie had decided to demonstrate how fierce a monster would be. He laughed and squealed as one does when captured by a monster of course. 

"Im not scared of silly old Lizzie!" He cried out breathlessly. 

"But im not Lizzie! Im a hungry monster that is going to eat you all up!" 

They continued swooping around laughing, until...

"Excuse me." Said a cold voice. 

The voice sounded so condescending, Lizzie put Thomas down and turned, expecting to see a grumpy old man or irate guard. As she turned to apologize  she saw it was neither... It was a boy, who looked around her own age in his face. Everything about him suggested first class, his perfectly combed hair and expensive clothes were very fine. He carried a sketchpad in his left hand, which he jerked out of sight when he saw her gaze wonder to it. 

Her mum always said first class were a different race to them... But she wanted to know for herself if this was true. 

"Me mum used to draw, in a book like that... Hopped I would pick it up I suppose." She grinned sheepishly, "Didn't ever happen though!" 

"Im sure, now please excuse me." He said briskly, leaving abruptly. 

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