Slipping Into The Future

Epilogue

On Slavery by Anonymous

Within this document lays 87 essays from multiple anonymous highly educated men — & in congress — arguing against the cruel natures of slavery — with a liberated country, we cannot lay with the apparatus we have won and simply ignore this vile behaviour to mankind akin to the act of slavery. As such, we have collaborated in hope of reaching to you, the people of these blessed United States of America, and ask of you to share mercy and empathy for our fallen men, women, and children.

We ask for your patience and consideration and to not let selfishness befall to you as you read these words upon the page — with mine eyes as to yrs, we most humbly present the case of Abolishing slavery in all of these United States of America[...]

[cont'd...]

24th of November, 1795

°•°•°

Lin shoots up, gasping for breath as his heart hammers within his chest. His gasping melts into low sobs as he curls into himself and cries quietly into his hands. He instantly melts into the warm touch of a gentle hand rubbing up and down his back soothingly.

"Shh, you're awake. It was only a dream, honey," Vanessa whispers softly.

"It wasn't, though. It was real—" Lin shudders and pulls away from her, wiping his eyes and sniffling to rid himself of tears.

Vanessa lowers her gaze to the bedsheets contemplatively, her hand lowering to rest upon the cotton sheets. "Your therapist said it was only gonna get worse before it gets better. You're safe now, though. No longer there in that car..."

Lin sighs and sadly looks over his shoulder at his wonderful wife. He smiles at her efforts to comfort him. "I'll go get some water. Go back to sleep."

Vanessa frowns but Lin kisses her quickly before she can object. She nods slowly as they part. "Okay, sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything."

Lin tries to ignore the image of his hand stabbing into a man's back as he feigns a smile and slides off of the bed. He retreats into his office and locks the door behind him. He instantly pulls out the unlabeled storage box from the closet and rifles through the printer papers filled with scrawly 18th-century handwriting to retrieve the old leatherbound book.

Lin leans back against the wall, pulling his legs up to rest the sketchbook on his thighs as he opens it carefully. He smiles at the relaxing artwork portraying birds, flowers, and landscapes. He smiles at the images of the men at work and lingers on the drawing of a smiling young Washington.

Lin hesitates on the first drawing of a young man biting the tip of his quill in thought, knowing it is Hamilton. He goes through these drawings slowly, noting how these drawings have the most intricate details out of them all — as if the artist took more time and effort to perfect them. He smiles, knowing how fond John and Alexander were of each other; he lingers on a few drawings where Hamilton is peacefully asleep. Even Lin has never seen the man look so peaceful while sleeping.

He blinks in surprise as he makes it farther into the book than he has before. He Had not looked at this since their trip to Valley Forge, choosing to hide it and the piles of writings Hamilton left in his office the moment he returned home. The drawing is of Hamilton sleeping peacefully yet again, but his head is resting on the shoulder of John Laurens. Laurens' head is tilted downward as he looks up into Lin's eyes — he quickly realizes this is a drawing of a reflection in a mirror. The very same sketchbook in Lin's hand is laying on John's lap in the sketch and his eyebrows are scrunched with concentration as he looks forward.