Hamilton One-Shots

My Last Thought is of Eliza

Ship: Marliza, sort of

Warning: Rape mention, suicide, self-harm, depression. This is literally a suicide. I cannot stress this enough, if you are triggered by suicide at all, don't read this.

Prompt: Maria thinks about everything, especially Eliza, before she finalizes her decision.

POV: Third person

Maria stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She's pretty, everyone says so. Her hair is shiny and thick and nicely curled. Her eyes are alluring pools of golden brown. Her lips are plump and almost always painted red. Her skin is a smooth caramel color. She never doubted the idea that she was pretty, either. No, Maria Reynolds knows she is pretty. 

And she hates it.

Being pretty is the issue. Because she can't help but think that maybe if she weren't so pretty, she wouldn't have such a reputation. She wouldn't be thought of as the school slut. And maybe if she weren't so pretty, they wouldn't have chosen her that night. They wouldn't have gotten her so drunk and brought her up to that room. One of them wouldn't have held her down and covered her mouth while the other did the unthinkable to her.

That night and everything that followed, all the fear and the whispers in the school hallway, makes being pretty seem like it wasn't such a good thing.

Being pretty isn't something that Maria wants to be anymore. Or maybe Maria just doesn't want to be anything anymore. Maybe that's why she finds herself staring in the bathroom mirror, a razor in her hands. 

She's picked a day when she knows her mother will be gone and no one will come looking for her. She isn't leaving a note, even though she knows some people deserve one. People like Eliza.

Eliza was there for Maria through it all. She'd stayed through every breakdown. She'd stayed through all the whispers and the mean words. She'd stayed there through the humiliating moments. She'd even stayed when the two had kissed and Maria pushed her away, screaming at her as if she were them. 

And Eliza had tried so hard to make it all go away, all the pain and the heartache. And Maria is fucking grateful, but nothing can make it go away. Nothing can get rid of the emptiness inside of her that's sometimes replaced with a soul-crushing weight of panicked sadness. She has accepted it now. Accepted that there's no point in trying because it will never get better and she will always feel this way.

She remembers the last time she saw Eliza, a few days ago. She hadn't planned it yet back then. She remembers throwing the empty bottle that used to contain whiskey down, letting it smash on the pavement and pretending not to notice Eliza flinch.

"I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO FEEL THIS WAY!" She screams, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

Eliza steps forward, the calm in the midst of Maria's storm. "What way?"

Maria tugs at the ends of her hair and squeezes her eyes shut. "EMPTY! I DON'T FEEL ANYTHING ANYMORE!" It's a lie. She feels too much. 

She runs forward and grabs onto Eliza's shirt, sinking to her knees. "Fuck me! Hit me! Make me feel something!"

The other girl takes Maria's hands in hers and shakes her head. "Maria, it's going to be okay."

"IT WILL NEVER BE OKAY!"

It wasn't fair to yell at Eliza. Maria knows that. She knew it then, too. But if she didn't yell at someone, she was afraid of what would happen. She feels guilty because she knows that Eliza will be sad once she finds out. But Eliza shouldn't have cared about her, Maria thinks. She isn't worth it. And Eliza should've known that there was only one way this could end. And it's about to end.

Maria walks over to the tub and gets in, appreciating the fact that she chose to wear her nice, red dress. She climbs in and turns the faucet on, letting the warm liquid swell around her and overflow. She doesn't turn the water off, but keeps letting it run. 

She looks down at her wrists and picks up the blade, letting the hot skin of her fingers feel the cool metal. Then she does it. It hurts, but she welcomes it because at least in her last moments, she can feel something. She looks down and sees that her arm is red. The water is red too. Like her dress. Everything is red. It's a good thing that red is her best color.

Maria sets her arms on the edge of the tub and leans her head back, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Dying doesn't feel how she imagined it would. It's not painful or anything. It doesn't come with her life flashing before her eyes. And it doesn't just end, like a final thing. She just sits there, in the tub, lungs still breathing, heart still beating, brain still thinking, but she's dying. 

No, it doesn't feel how she imagined. But she can feel herself draining. Growing colder, it's almost like she's dreaming. And everything is fuzzy as if it's being seen through a frosted window. 

Her breathing slows, her eyes flutter. Then, Maria thinks about Eliza. She knows Eliza will be sad. But Eliza will be fine. And it will be okay. She breathes out. Then, her lungs don't breathe. Her heart doesn't beat. Her mind doesn't think. She's gone.

AN: So that was intense and very sad. I apologize. I was just very inspired to write this for some reason. If you would like a part two with Eliza finding Maria and/or mourning her, I can do that. It will be just as sad, possibly sadder, though.