"I'm sorry ma'am, only women and children," the young sailor said as he held me by the arm, keeping me from stepping into the lifeboat.

"He's my only son!" my mother pleaded. "He's only 14!"

"I'm sorry ma'am, I have my orders," he replied, ordering the lifeboat to be lowered.

My mother started screaming as she held on to my sisters. She tried to climb out, but other women on the boat stopped her.

"Remember your girls!" one of the women in the boat said.

"I love you, Mom!" I shouted, reaching over the rail.

"I'll try to be brave," I said while fighting back the tears.

"I love you, too Michael!" I heard her reply, believing it would be the last time she saw her son.

As the boat hit the water, I could hear my mother's cry.

I felt alone. I felt fear. I felt cold. My teeth were chattering.

"There, there, young man, be brave like the rest of us," an older man said standing next to me. He had just watched his wife and three children lowered into the boat.

"I'm trying sir," I said.

My father died six months before we took a once-in-a-lifetime trip to France. It was mother's way of trying to help us get over his death.

And here I was on the deck of a ship, surrounded by strangers, all of us waiting to die.

The madness was growing by the moment, something I was finding really hard to believe. Less than an hour before, I was in a warm bed, awakened by Mom.

We were calmly told to put our clothes on, and then put life jackets on. I helped Mom dress my sisters.

"Don't worry," we were told. Somebody mentioned something about a propeller being broken.

"They're going to put us in lifeboats just for a little while as a precaution," mother said. "Then they'll let us back into our room."

We found out otherwise as we made our way to the lifeboat. The mighty Titanic we all heard so much about as we were preparing to come home from France had hit an iceberg.

"I thought the Titanic was unsinkable," a wealthy lady said as we were preparing to board the lifeboat.

The look on the young sailor's face as he helped the woman into the boat said otherwise.

He had a look of fear.

Mom noticed it. I noticed it.

Anyone who thought this big ship was unsinkable knew otherwise, now. You could feel the ship tilt a little bit. Water was flooding the decks below.

People were running around, hoping to find space on a lifeboat. Some people were simply jumping overboard, some with deck chairs hoping they would float.

Women were crying as they were saying goodbye to their men.

"Please God, help me!" I cried. "I don't want to die."

I let go of the cold, iron rail as I watched the boat carrying my mother and sisters row off.

I found a spot by a group of musicians, who continued to play despite the sense of doom engulfing everyone around us.

"Psst! Boy, come here!" came a loud whisper.

I thought I was hearing things.

"Psst! Boy come here!"

That time I knew I wasn't hearing things.

I saw a girl about my age motioning for me to come to her and an elderly lady standing next to a door.

"Hurry!" the girl shouted.

I soon as I reached them, the elderly woman grabbed me and pulled me inside the door.

"Quick, let's get these clothes off!" she said to me and the young girl.

"Ma'am?" I shouted, still very much in a state of shock and a state of fear.

"Do you want to live, or do you want to die?" the woman asked.

"Live," I shouted.

"Well, then, we don't have much time," she said. "We're all going to die if we don't hurry!"

She yanked my shirt and my coat off at the same time, popping buttons as she pulled them over my head.

Hurriedly the girl pulled my pants down. I stepped out, leaving me standing only in long underwear, which the woman completely ripped off of me.

It left me shivering naked for a few seconds.

"Hurry Rachel, get the clothes out of the bag," the woman said.

"Yes, Grandmama," the girl said, pulling out wrinkled clothes and a pair of shoes.

I quickly climbed into something my mother and sisters wear under their clothes. I raised my arms up as the woman and the girl called Rachel pulled a dress over me.

The woman then pulled out a scarf and an extra shawl of the one bag she carried. She put the scarf over my head and put the shawl on me. I put on my life jacket back on.

"It will have to do," the woman said. "Now let's see if we can find a lifeboat. And Rachel, we probably need to leave these bags behind. At least there were of some use to us."

We headed in another direction. The woman didn't want the sailor who pulled me out of my mother's lifeboat to recognize me.

She quickly spotted another boat.

There was pushing and shoving going on. We saw a young officer pull a gun on a man.

"Everybody get back or I will shoot!" the young officer said.

"But there is still room on the lifeboat!" another man shouted.

"Are there anymore women and children?" the young officer shouted.

"Yes there are!" the woman shouted. "Me and my two granddaughters!"

"There is just enough room for three more," a sailor helping the officer replied.

"Everybody get back, let the ladies through," said a man in a dark mustache.

"Why thank you, Mr. Astor!" the woman said.

"Ok girls, watch your step," the woman said as we were being helped into the lifeboat.

Some of the women moved to make room for us.

"Okay, girls, I want one of you on my left and the other on my right," the woman said.

"Is everyone now secure?" the young officer asked after we had taken our seats.

All of us nodded.

"Okay, boys, take her down!" the officer commanded the other sailors working the lifeboat crane.

They hurried as best they could, dropping our boat hard onto the water.

"Okay, ladies, grab an oar," a young officer said.

He was the only man on our boat. He was in charge of making sure we rowed to safely.

"Okay, Rachel, you grab a hold," the woman said, turning to the girl.

"And Leah, you, too," she said looking at me. "We've got to pull our weight!"

I gave her a puzzled look.

"Now is not the time to reveal your secret," the woman whispered to me. "As far as anyone on this boat is concerned, your name is Leah Pierpoint, understood?"

I nodded. This woman was the answer to my prayers.

"Do everything I tell you to do," she said.

I nodded again.

"Young lady, are you cold with just that shawl?" a woman facing us asked.

I nodded.

"We were in such a hurry, my sister forgot her coat," Rachel said.

The woman pulled a very expensive fur coat out of her bag.

My "grandmother" took it from her and pulled it over me as I continued to row.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, stuttering a little bit from the cold.

"You're quite welcome," the woman said. "You girls are doing a very good job of rowing The name's Mary Anderson."

"Thank you, ma'am," Rachel and I said almost at the same time.

"I'm Agnes Pierpoint and these are my granddaughters Rachel and Leah," our "grandmother" said.

"We're twins," Rachel said, winking at me as we rowed.

"Of the Pierpoint Merchandise Company?" Mrs. Anderson asked.

"Yes, the company's been in my late husbands family for generations," my "grandmother" said.

"Oh my God!" another woman screamed, pointing toward the direction of the ship.

We looked to see the great ship Titanic tilting. Suddenly, what seemed like hundreds of ants rushed on to what was left of the deck.

"My God, don't tell me they've been below deck all this time!" Mrs. Pierpont, our "grandmother," said.

"I don't think I see any boats left for them to get on," Mrs. Anderson replied.

"Girls, look away," "grandmother" replied.

Rachel and I did as we were told, both of us weeping.

We were fortunate. Our backs were turned to the ship. The women and children facing us in the lifeboat weren't so lucky. They had a full view of the tragedy that was unfolding.

Some of them covered their eyes. Others bowed their heads to keep from watching.

Unfortunately for all of us, we could hear what was going on. We could hear the cries of hundreds of people as many jumped to their deaths and others fought for what little of their lives they had left.

Amazingly, we could also still hear music. Rachel swore the last song we heard was "Nearer Oh God, to Thee." I wasn't so sure.

Then it dawned on me that I could have, perhaps should have, been among them had it not been for the woman and girl seated to my left.

They risked their own lives to save me.

Suddenly, the sea grew dark. The shouts and cries grew louder.

I heard a woman say the lights had just gone out on the ship.

We heard an explosion.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" Mrs. Anderson shouted. "It's gone! It's gone!"

All we could do was weep.