Hamilton shortstories / Writing Prompts

You knock me out, I fall apart.

Alexander's eyes locked into Philip's ebony orbs one final time before they closed shut, a single tear rolling down his freckled cheeks. With the back of his thumb, Hamilton wiped it off and tucked two stray locks of curly ringlets of hair behind his son's ear.

He leaned forward, getting close to his ear and whispered a few mere words to his deceased son, "You knock me out I.... Fall apart." Bringing his face back up, his lips brushed against his son's cheeks, daring not to plant a final kiss upon it.

Eliza's delicate touch fell onto Alexander's shoulder, shaking wildly all the while. The little makeup she had been wearing was smeared, her hair a bird's nest. Gentle tears streamed down her face, leaving black streaks of mascara running down the side of her temples.

"Hun, we best get going." She stammered quietly, barely being able to form words out of her quivering lips.

Alexander grasped her hand within his, his palm being shockingly warm against her shivering fingertips.

He nodded in reply, standing up from his son's side to join her, allowing him one last glance before turning around to head for the door.

The walk home was tense, to say the least. Eliza waited with bated breath for her husband's explanation as to why her son was now sleeping in the morgue rather than his bed at home.

"Who did it, Alexander?" She asked, without even turning her head to look at him.

He bit his lip, looking at her, "George Eacker," He inhaled a sharp breath before continuing, "Philip challenged him to a duel in Weehawken... He used my guns."

Eliza stopped in her tracks, "You...Knew?" Her lips trembled, pulling her hand away from her husband's and holding it close to her chest. "You knew and you didn't stop him!" She sobbed into her hands, shaking furiously with anger and a wave of sudden sadness.

"Betsy, please try to understand! Our Philip decided to throw away his shot, surely that is an honourable way to die!" Alexander put a hand on Eliza's shoulder, pivoting her around on her heels to face him.

"And for what cause, Alexander? Our boy died in vain! You and your pride will be the death of you, and it's going to be the bitter end for so many other people before you even have the chance to bask yourself in heaven's light! If you could stop indulging in your childish fantasies of dying like a martyr for a single moment, and merely allowed the words 'sorry' to grace your lips, then I can assure you the world would be a much better place!" She screamed, punctuating each of her sentences with a point at him with her index finger.

His arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her inwards, "My dearest Eliza, I'm truly sorry... I should have known that boy was too naive to even consider partaking in a duel. You're right Eliza you're... Always right."

A few tears dripped down Alexander's cheeks and trickled down onto Eliza's head like raindrops on a winter's night.

"It was George Eacker, correct?" She queried, wiping a few tears from the bridge of her petite nose with the back of her hand, then wrapping her finger around one of his ebony locks of hair.

"Indeed it was," He replied, balancing his nose on top of hers, his warm breath brushing against her cheeks.

"I want him dead, please Alexander, do it for me." She peppered his cheeks with tiny kisses, each of which was about as innocent and pure as she was.

"Eliza, such thoughts are so unprecedented, especially for a lady of your nature. Why now are you having such a sudden change in heart?" He kissed her cheek one single time before separating their bodies. Alexander connected their hands and continued the walk home.

"Alex, my dearest, you have to catch a glimpse of this from a new perspective! The way our heart pangs and aches at the thought of our loss; surely that would make you want to inflict the same amount of torment onto those who inflicted it?"

"Perhaps," He began, however, his voice trailed off before he could find the correct words to finish his statement.

"When we get home, take the very guns Philip held before his premature departure and go to Mr. Eacker's estate. Under the circumstances in which he is asleep, be sure to wake him up to ensure he feels every ounce of the pain inflicted. Please try not to be caught, dearest... I'm not sure I could take another heartbreak." She stood up onto the tips of her toes and pressed her lips against his, granting him one final kiss before they approached the front door to their so called humble abode.

Eliza was the first to walk upstairs and into her bedroom, where not a single peep was heard for the rest of the night, whereas Alexander stayed sat in the lounge, contemplating if he were to go through with it or not. Once he finally decided he was going to, he reached into the pristine cabinets, pulling out his gun, a Wogdon duelling pistol and placed it into his coat pocket. With that, he headed out the door again.

The walk over to Eacker's house was tedious as ever, however, it could not possibly match the struggles he faced when attempting to get into his house without making a sound. None of the windows were open, and the front door was locked, he was about to give up hope when he noticed a gate to the side, leading onto his garden.

Following it revealed a garden decorated with bushes and sculptures, thought the only thing that bothered him was the door, which was swinging from side to side in the autumn's breeze. Alexander walked towards it, pushing it open with his elbow, making a shrill screech.

In a panic, Alexander slammed the door shut behind him, in an attempt to mute the sound before it unintentionally woke George up. Letting out a sigh of relief, he continued through the house. Nearing a set of stairs, he scaled them to look around for Eacker's room.

Despite living alone, he still had about five rooms, each of which was bedrooms and bathrooms.

Alexander finally found Eaker's, at the end of the narrow hallway.

"Mr. George Eacker!" He shouted, alerting the man lying in slumber to wake up.

George propped himself up, lighting a candle at the side of his bed and putting on a pair of spectacles the look at the man standing before him, and then the gun in his hand

"Mister H..Hamilton! What a... surprise... If about is about the speech in support of Burr, then I'll take it back I s-" He was cut off by Alexander taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

"You killed my son, George. Allow me to rephrase, you murdered him." Alexander seethed through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm through the whole ordeal.

"Hamilton, he....he... er... why, he tried to shoot me! I was merely trying to remain safe" He heaved in and out, in an attempt not to faint or be scared.

Alexander aimed the gun at Eacker's head, lining up his shot, "Liars go to Hell, do you know that Mister Eacker."

Tears dripped down George's cheeks, "Hamilton... Please spare my life," He whispered, lips trembling wildly, "My parents will be ridden with distraught, they won't be able to live on..."

Alexander's fingers wrapped around the trigger, getting ready to shoot. His hands were shaking and twitching, barely being able to line up a clear shot. He hesitated. He couldn't do it. He lowered the gun to his side, placing it on his lap, with his hand still wrapped around the trigger of the gun. After becoming more relaxed, he placed it next to him.

"I too, understand all too well the pangs of losing a son." He let out a heavy sigh, then continued, "I couldn't possibly imagine being the cause of the same agony onto somebody else."

He composed his figure, getting ready to stand up and leave, without even harming Eacker. He looked down to see his hands shaking and spasming in all sorts of way, must be all the grief and fear he was experiencing. He stood up, an began to head towards the door.

Turning back around for one last glance, he noticed the gun he had left on the bed, firmly placed in Eacker's hands and placed against the side of his head. Then he pulled the trigger. The last words he uttered before the fatal shot were, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton."