Disclaimer: I do not know or own any of the historical characters of Titanic. The only character I own is the character of Elizabeth McMaster Murdoch, a fictional character. Murdoch never had any children, I believe. Some of these events are based on the 1997 film Titanic and I give full credit to James Cameron and everyone involved with that. Other events are fictional and even based on historical happenings. This story, itself, is fan fiction. It is fake. I created this through my own dedication to Titanic (movie and historical one) and I do not appreciate anyone stealing my work. If you want to use this, I ask that you please inform me of this and at least give credit. Please enjoy this story and review it. The only to make it better is that YOU share YOUR opinion with ME. Thank you.
June 15, 1912
Charles Herbert Lightoller steadily ascends the grand oak stairs of a two story apartment in Southampton, a firm yet solemn expression on his face. His tall frame now shrunken due to the great tragedy that took away his beloved friends. It has been exactly two months since the sinking of the massive passenger liner Titanic on that cold April night. Traces of that incident still appear quite clearly on his face such as the new gray hairs and the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The Second Officer sighs as he climbed the steps, one by one. Today, he would have the unfortunate responsibility of rummaging through the belongings of his perished "family". Mr. Lightoller reaches the top of the steps and a wave of weakness and despair washes over him. He grips the iron railing for support. This would be one of the most difficult things he would ever have to do in his life.
The grief-stricken man pushes all of his emotions behind and continued walking. He does not stop until he reaches the door of a bedroom. Slowly, he turned the knob and the door creaked as it opened. Inside was a neatly made bed. It was composed of wood and included a cotton pillow, a porcelain doll, and a white blanket with lace trimmings. Across from that was an oak dresser with female accessories such as a hairbrush. On the right side of that was a wardrobe room holding many corsets and elegant dresses. Lightoller takes a deep breath, the aroma of her favorite perfume still apparent in the air. He knew that more than anything; he would need to hold on to those precious memories of her playful spirit. It would help break him from this deep depression that had suddenly taken over his body. The former occupant of this room, Elizabeth McMaster Murdoch, lay dead at the bottom of the sea. Charles Lightoller surveys the room, taking in everything. He could not believe that she was gone. She was so young, only seventeen, and full of life. She had been the daughter of William McMaster Murdoch, the dead First Officer of Titanic, and the love of everyone around her. Not a soul could say they had hated this wonderful girl.
He eyes the room once more and something catches his eye. Sitting on the very edge of a desk is a small rectangular book. It looks battered and has water stains on the ends. The Titanic survivor saunters over towards the writing table and picks it up. He sits himself down on her wooden chair and opens it. The book looks familiar. Of course! This wasn't a reading book, it was a diary filled with private thoughts of the girl whom he loved as his own daughter. He thought for a moment, contemplating or whether or not he should read her entries. After all, this is her journal and she is dead but something told him he should. Perhaps it was Elizabeth, telling him it was all right to read it. Maybe she wanted him to read it, to know her secrets and thoughts. The able seaman decided he should. There is something about this diary that tells him there is something he must know. Something he should have known a long time ago. A secret that would have went to her watery grave, had it not been for this private journal.