It was a fateful night over the North Atlantic. A night to remember the souls taken by the ocean. A night to remember those who perished, leaving behind unfulfilled dreams.

The stars shone brightly that cold night, as if they had never shone before. Despair and cries surrounded the place, and death wandered there, waiting for them. Because that night, money or social class did not matter. Everyone was equal, sharing the same fate: to perish in the sea.

And then the moment came when the screams and moans faded into the depths of the night, while the moon witnessed the fateful scene and illuminated the bodies floating on the icy waters of the North Atlantic.

What is death? They all left, and none have returned. People with dreams left behind.

Thousands of dreams lost.

On June 26, 1912, the Ninth Symphony of Gustav Mahler premiered.

The Vienna Philharmonic played under the conductor Bruno Walter.

Does this count as a spidersona? Sorry I was a little drunk when I did this

Warnings: Mature, No Archive Warnings, Apply Major Character Death, Harry Castillo, Angst, Tragedy, RMS Titanic, Inspired by Titanic (1997), Ocean, Historical References, Historical, Drama & Romance, Romance, Drama, Coming of Age, Family Issues, Class Differences, Social Issues, Slow Burn, Victorian, 1912s, Forbidden Love, boarding the titanic, Third-Class Passenger x Upper-Class Passenger, Character Death, Death, Corpses, Sad Ending, Sad.

Summary: A young Irish woman and her younger sister travel in third class aboard the Titanic, where their lives change drastically after unexpected encounters and a fateful night.

Notes: In memoriam to those who perished in the disaster to the Titanic, April 14th and 15th, 1912.

Stats: Words: 2,883 Works: 3 Complete: Yes

Today I finished this series available on AO3. It's been a journey writing it, and I’m so excited to share it with all of you. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it. Don’t forget to leave kudos and tell me what you think!

The stars shone brightly that cold night, as if they had never shone before. Despair and cries surrounded the place, and death wandered there, waiting for them. Because that night, money or social class did not matter. Everyone was equal, sharing the same fate: to perish in the sea.

And then the moment came when the screams and moans faded into the depths of the night, while the moon witnessed the fateful scene and illuminated the bodies floating on the icy waters of the North Atlantic.

What is death? They all left, and none have returned. People with dreams left behind.

Thousands of dreams lost.

A Past Life on the Titanic

Before delving into this journey of recalling my past life, let us begin by defining the concept of past lives in today’s terms. This refers to the idea that a person may have had an existence prior to the current one, in a different body or context, and that this existence could influence their present life in some way. It is believed that memories, talents, fears, or emotional bonds might stem from experiences in other lives. According to some traditions, the soul or spirit undergoes multiple lives, and the karma accumulated in previous existences affects the conditions of the present life.

Given this brief introduction, I will begin my story.

Firstly, let us travel back more than a hundred years, to the year 1912. This era is most famously marked by the luxurious ocean liner known as the Titanic, which sailed into the icy waters of the North Atlantic en route to New York on April 10, 1912. However, tragedy struck during its maiden voyage.

And you, the readers, may wonder why I am writing about this. First, because several years ago, I felt a deep attraction to this ship and began researching it. I saw photos of the ship and its passengers. But what struck me most was the first time I watched a video of the ship's departure. You cannot imagine the strong connection I felt upon seeing it. It was strange, yet thrilling and nostalgic at the same time.

Second, because I am afraid of the sea. I don’t like going into the water when I visit the beach; I also can’t swim, and it terrifies me.

Because of this, I suppose I was on that ill-fated voyage in one of my past lives.

There will be parts of this story that will bring me to tears as I write them because these memories feel as though I am living them in the present, in my current life.

Panic and uncertainty were present on that cold night of April 14th, on the ship’s deck. I was with my father and his best friend, named Harry Castillo. I will use this name because Pedro Pascal's portrayal in the film Materialists—which has not yet premiered in my country but I eagerly await—reminds me of memories from the Titanic. Perhaps my father and his best friend were businessmen in the railroad industry embarking on a journey to America to expand their business. My father had invited Mr. Castillo on this trip, even gifting him a ticket. I liked Harry, and though I had not told him, he knew. He was already aware.

That night was different. My father pulled me away from Harry to place me in one of the lifeboats being filled. It was one of the first ones. Only those of our class were on the deck. He promised me we would see each other again. I felt anguish rising within me as I looked at my father and Harry for the last time. Harry nodded formally. I did not know it would be the last time I would see them.

This is one possibility, among others, such as the possibility that I was engaged to Mr. Castillo. I gave Harry a strong hug before boarding the lifeboat, unaware if I would see him again.

There are thousands of possibilities for how my life could have unfolded during that time, in that terrifying moment. In my opinion, this would be one of the saddest possibilities, much like those who bid farewell to their loved ones on the deck with the uncertainty of whether they would ever meet again.

Because it is not like the movie, where Rose jumps off the lifeboat to reunite with her beloved Jack. Fear and anguish paralyzed you, leaving little room to think, and no clarity about what to do.

I have written a series published on my AO3 account, titled An Ocean of Memories.

In memoriam to those who perished in the Titanic disaster, April 14th and 15th, 1912.

This series portrays two Irish sisters traveling in third class aboard the Titanic. One of them meets a first-class man who is already engaged.

Harry guided Tiffany to one of the lifeboats that was being filled. ‘You must get in,’ he told her. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Harry.’ ‘I... I'll be fine,’ he said, trying to reassure her. ‘Come, miss, this way,’ one of the guards said, guiding her into the boat. Tiffany and Harry exchanged one last look before she took a seat in the boat alongside other women and children. Harry watched her from his position, maintaining his composure. He knew he had done the right thing. That was the last lifeboat to lower into the frigid waters of the North Atlantic under the cold, starry, moonless night.

In this series, I wanted to portray how I imagined the lives of some passengers might have been, highlighting the stark differences in class aboard the ship.

That night, we were alone. No one helped us, and third-class passengers suffered the worst consequences. This class disparity was reflected in survival and death rates. Most of the third-class passengers perished. It was one of the classes with the highest fatalities—around 75% of the total deaths. Many bodies were never found. It is believed that most unrecovered bodies likely sank with the ship due to locked doors, blocked staircases, misinformation, and chaos. Not everyone understood the gravity of the situation. Some were not informed, or if they were, it was too late, especially those in second and third class. It is believed that many remains still rest on the seabed, approximately 3,800 meters deep, in extreme conditions.

The mind is powerful, and one can never truly know what happened that night. We only know through survivor testimonies and newspaper reports from the time, but was it truly so?

Perhaps the remains of the body I once inhabited during that life still lie on the seabed or are trapped among the wreckage of that ship. I will never know, but everything points to it being true.

Perhaps I was a third-class man who could never escape that tragic fate and sank with it. My soul reincarnated in my current body, carrying that fear of drowning to avoid repeating what ended my life.

To add and conclude this text, the soul carries blocked memories that only some can unlock during childhood. This is why there have been reports of children remembering their past lives, but as we grow, these memories blur, fade, and disappear forever for those who do not believe—for the majority blinded to them. But for those who do, those memories manifest in dreams, déjà vu, etc., as they do in my case.

In memoriam to those who perished in the disaster to the Titanic, April 14th and 15th, 1912.

Memories of My Past Lives

A Past Life on the Titanic

Before delving into this journey of recalling my past life, let us begin by defining the concept of past lives in today’s terms. This refers to the idea that a person may have had an existence prior to the current one, in a different body or context, and that this existence could influence their present life in some way. It is believed that memories, talents, fears, or emotional bonds might stem from experiences in other lives. According to some traditions, the soul or spirit undergoes multiple lives, and the karma accumulated in previous existences affects the conditions of the present life.

Given this brief introduction, I will begin my story.

Firstly, let us travel back more than a hundred years, to the year 1912. This era is most famously marked by the luxurious ocean liner known as the Titanic, which sailed into the icy waters of the North Atlantic en route to New York on April 10, 1912. However, tragedy struck during its maiden voyage.

And you, the readers, may wonder why I am writing about this. First, because several years ago, I felt a deep attraction to this ship and began researching it. I saw photos of the ship and its passengers. But what struck me most was the first time I watched a video of the ship's departure. You cannot imagine the strong connection I felt upon seeing it. It was strange, yet thrilling and nostalgic at the same time.

Second, because I am afraid of the sea. I don’t like going into the water when I visit the beach; I also can’t swim, and it terrifies me.

Because of this, I suppose I was on that ill-fated voyage in one of my past lives.

There will be parts of this story that will bring me to tears as I write them because these memories feel as though I am living them in the present, in my current life.

Panic and uncertainty were present on that cold night of April 14th, on the ship’s deck. I was with my father and his best friend, named Harry Castillo. I will use this name because Pedro Pascal's portrayal in the film Materialists—which has not yet premiered in my country but I eagerly await—reminds me of memories from the Titanic. Perhaps my father and his best friend were businessmen in the railroad industry embarking on a journey to America to expand their business. My father had invited Mr. Castillo on this trip, even gifting him a ticket. I liked Harry, and though I had not told him, he knew. He was already aware.

That night was different. My father pulled me away from Harry to place me in one of the lifeboats being filled. It was one of the first ones. Only those of our class were on the deck. He promised me we would see each other again. I felt anguish rising within me as I looked at my father and Harry for the last time. Harry nodded formally. I did not know it would be the last time I would see them.

This is one possibility, among others, such as the possibility that I was engaged to Mr. Castillo. I gave Harry a strong hug before boarding the lifeboat, unaware if I would see him again.

There are thousands of possibilities for how my life could have unfolded during that time, in that terrifying moment. In my opinion, this would be one of the saddest possibilities, much like those who bid farewell to their loved ones on the deck with the uncertainty of whether they would ever meet again.

Because it is not like the movie, where Rose jumps off the lifeboat to reunite with her beloved Jack. Fear and anguish paralyzed you, leaving little room to think, and no clarity about what to do.

I have written a series published on my AO3 account, titled An Ocean of Memories.

In memoriam to those who perished in the Titanic disaster, April 14th and 15th, 1912.

This series portrays two Irish sisters traveling in third class aboard the Titanic. One of them meets a first-class man who is already engaged.

Harry guided Tiffany to one of the lifeboats that was being filled. ‘You must get in,’ he told her. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Harry.’ ‘I... I'll be fine,’ he said, trying to reassure her. ‘Come, miss, this way,’ one of the guards said, guiding her into the boat. Tiffany and Harry exchanged one last look before she took a seat in the boat alongside other women and children. Harry watched her from his position, maintaining his composure. He knew he had done the right thing. That was the last lifeboat to lower into the frigid waters of the North Atlantic under the cold, starry, moonless night.

In this series, I wanted to portray how I imagined the lives of some passengers might have been, highlighting the stark differences in class aboard the ship.

That night, we were alone. No one helped us, and third-class passengers suffered the worst consequences. This class disparity was reflected in survival and death rates. Most of the third-class passengers perished. It was one of the classes with the highest fatalities—around 75% of the total deaths. Many bodies were never found. It is believed that most unrecovered bodies likely sank with the ship due to locked doors, blocked staircases, misinformation, and chaos. Not everyone understood the gravity of the situation. Some were not informed, or if they were, it was too late, especially those in second and third class. It is believed that many remains still rest on the seabed, approximately 3,800 meters deep, in extreme conditions.

The mind is powerful, and one can never truly know what happened that night. We only know through survivor testimonies and newspaper reports from the time, but was it truly so?

Perhaps the remains of the body I once inhabited during that life still lie on the seabed or are trapped among the wreckage of that ship. I will never know, but everything points to it being true.

Perhaps I was a third-class man who could never escape that tragic fate and sank with it. My soul reincarnated in my current body, carrying that fear of drowning to avoid repeating what ended my life.

To add and conclude this text, the soul carries blocked memories that only some can unlock during childhood. This is why there have been reports of children remembering their past lives, but as we grow, these memories blur, fade, and disappear forever for those who do not believe—for the majority blinded to them. But for those who do, those memories manifest in dreams, déjà vu, etc., as they do in my case.