The Shot Heard Around the World (Countryhumans American Revolution)

Revelations

━─━────༺ June 20, 1775༻────━─━

Thirteen Colonies made his way back to Philadelphia after the battle on Breed's Hill. The entire journey, he had felt sick and nauseous, his hands shaking as he was plagued with dreams about the struggle.

A battle he didn't remember.

Thirteen didn't know why. Sure, he had always had gaps in his memory, times where he would lose hours, or even days, and wake up not knowing what had just been happening. Thirteen had tried not to be worried about them, but now he was losing important events—an entire battle with his uncle.

A battle in which Thirteen had apparently attacked and injured his uncle.

How could that be? How could he do that? How could he forget that?

'You know the answer. You just have to stop fearing it.' Thirteen's thoughts echoed. He scowled.

"No, I don't." He said out loud before shrinking in on himself, looking around nervously to see if anyone had heard his outburst. Luckily, if anyone had heard, they didn't look up at him and continued with what they were doing.

His thoughts were wrong. Thirteen didn't know the reason. He wasn't feeding into the delusions from so, so long ago. He had learned better. He learned how to be normal. The delusions were a thing of the past. They weren't true.

There was no one in his head. There was no one else. It was only Thirteen. It was only him.

No one else was here.

'You're only alone when you force yourself to be.'

Thirteen had been doing his best to put that aside. It wasn't something he needed to be focusing on. What he needed to do now was rejoin the delegates at the Congress and get a better handle on where they stood with his father. Thirteen was blind. He didn't know what was happening, especially now with his uncle injured, so it was best that he rejoined Congress until he was sure he wouldn't lose any more important memories.

He didn't want to hurt anyone else he loved with his strange blackouts. He didn't want to wake up from the next memory blackout to find that he had killed his best friend or any of his siblings or, heaven forbid, his father.

Congress was safe. Thirteen would stay in a little apartment, away from weapons and, therefore, from anyone he could hurt.

It was safe.

Of course, he couldn't tell any of the delegates his real reason for returning, not without discrediting all the influence that they had accumulated.

Secrecy was safe. It always had been.

And Thirteen had always been a coward.

So here he was, almost a month after the Second Congress had come into session, ready to observe and participate where he could. Thirteen nervously entered Carpenter's Hall, going to stand in the back until he was made aware of a seat that could fit him.

Thirteen watched carefully as the delegates entered the room, spotting some familiar faces.

'There's the Adams.'

'And Benjamin Franklin. Glad to see he's still around.'

'At this rate, that old man will outlive us all.'

"Colonies? You've come? I thought you were staying in Boston to help with the fight," The president of the Congress, John Hancock, asked.

"With England defeated and injured, I believed it was best that I come here to listen to the matters of the Congress and catch myself up on where we stand politically with my father, as well as soothe the people by offering what little authority I have to the Congress." Thirteen explained.