Shattered Realities- Historical Hamilton

Chapter Eight: 09.27.1772

*...Ahaha, hi, it's been a while, hasn't it? Life is throwing hatchets at me rn, so sorry for the slow updates :') Anyway, here's a longer chapter as a reward for your waiting :D

"When British tea ships arrived in Boston harbor, many citizens wanted the tea sent back to England without the payment of any taxes. The royal governor insisted on payment of all taxes. On December 16, a group of men disguised as Indians (Native Americans) boarded the ships and dumped all the tea in the harbor,which is now known as the Boston Tea Party." -Library of Congress, 1773 to 1774 timeline

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There's nothing quite like being waking up to a child straddling your torso whining something in your ear. Not only did she sleep in this shitty bed that's made of rocks, now the Hamilton girl is rocking herself on her waist. Great.

"Go away."

"Make them shut up," she chirps back, rocking again, and one of her razor sharp knees jab into Cassandra's tits.

She hisses. "Ask Solomon to help you."

"He's not here!"

"Mr J, then."

"Mr Jefferson? He's getting food." Oh, of course he is. She cracks her eyes open, and the girl's blue eyes are glaring right back at her. "Make them shut up!"

"Why are you asking me to make someone shut up?" She barks back, still not willing to let go of the tendrils of sleep that feebly clung to her.

"Because you're loud and mean," Angelica answers without missing a beat, still rocking on her ribs. "And people shut up when someone are loud and mean."

Fair enough. She groans, and sees that she won't be able to win this. "Jeez, okay, I'll help, I'll help, just get off of me." With a victory shout that's way too loud for this morning, she crawls of off her like a spider on cocaine. She falls off of the bed for extra credit, as well, hitting her head.

"You okay, kid?"

A high-pitched laugh. "Aye!" The red-haired girl stands up again, brushing off her skirt. "Now shout at them to make them quiet."

She sits up, stretches- a few bones pop, and her back aches. Concrete would have been more comfortable than this piece of wood. She doesn't even know what's in the damn mattress, but whatever it is, the only thing it should be used for is torture devices. The only thing that interrupted the morning silence was Angelica's nervous bouncing on her feet.

Wait. 

She stills. The kid continues bouncing, looking at her expectantly. 

"Angelica, there's no one talking." She looks around the room. It's entirely silent, and almost empty- George is curled in his bed, asleep. The bed creaks underneath her, and that's the loudest sound of the morning.

"Yes, there is!" She insists, biting at her bottom lip. "They've been whispering to each other all night, and all they do is whisper and whisper and whisper and they don't stop!" A moment of silence. Angelica points at a wall opposite her. "See? See? She said something again!"

In those few moments, Cassandra would've been able to hear a pin drop.

Is the kid fucking with her? But her finger determinedly points at the wall, as if she could will this imaginary voice into existence if she tried hard enough. And she's too young to lie- she'd know, Cassandra had to spend all her teenage years with children. If this is her imagination going haywire, it would be better to shut that idea down, that she's playing pretend with the wrong person.