Lams oneshot

The nail on the coffin (pt 1) (angst)

Warning: mentions of self harm and depression. Signs of suicide
This one doesn't specify whether it's musical or historical, its up to you guys.....
A lot of POV changes

John's POV (surprise!)

I stared at my ceiling feeling a deep pit in my stomach. The longer I stared, the more faded it got, and the darker my room got. It's been a couple years I've felt this way, but its recently gotten worse? I'm not sure anymore. Sometimes days are a blur, and other times I'm able to remember a bit more. I'm just always so sad. I can't really explain as well how I feel, unlike Hamilton. Alex...I haven't really seen him that much. He's always in his room, writing all the time.
He doesn't care enough to know how you are. The voice in my head screamed in my mind. Its probably right. He'd rather argue with Jefferson than to even give me a simple "hello". I gripped my head and turned to my side, curling my legs to my stomach. I just feel so...pessimistic, so gloomy, I feel terrible. I hate feeling this way, and I wouldn't want anyone to worry about me, so I keep my mouth shut. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm really not all that great, like people would be better off without me. I'm sick of feeling like I dont matter, but something tells me its true. I really dont matter at all.

I threw my pillow across the room in frustration. Why must this feeling overtake me? It makes me feel useless because I'm not doing anything.
You're a lazy shit. You never do anything, and you'll never be someone great. You're useless.
I sniffle and try to wipe the oncoming tears off my face. This is getting tiring, and quite tedious. Its the same cycle everyday. I'm constantly tearing myself apart because I deserve it. I roll my sleeves up to look at all the bloody lines marked on my arms, the scars reopened or marked over. I couldn't care less.
I stared past them and blankly stared at the wall.

Hercules, Lafayette, Hamilton, the Schuylers and I were at a restaurant, finally getting the chance to hang out after all of our midterms. Eliza sighed in relief, as she stretched while Angelica and Peggy grinned.
"Doesn't it feel amazing to finally be done with spitting our heads open all week? Because I sure think it does." Angelica and the rest nodded in agreement. "Oh definitely, an entire boulder fell off my shoulders". Peggy laughed. Angelica grabbed her cup and lifted it to the air, cheering "To freedom from tests!" Making everyone mimic her actions and bringing their own drinks up to clank them with each other's. Everyone laughed, then began talking to one another about what they did, and how their day was.
"Yeah I'm sure Hamilton here was way ahead of us, that guy is walking google." Hercules said while unwrapping his food. Angelica made a noise of agreement. " Yeah, I swear he's like-" I was abruptly cut off by Angelica bringing up a topic I had no idea of. And once again Laurens, you're out of the loop. I looked down at my food, not really feeling that hungry. Lately I've been depriving myself from their conversations, there was no point in trying to talk about something they weren't talking about. They talked over me sometimes like I didn't matter, and I just let it happen. They don't really like you anyways. Just eat your food or go home, you're a pest.
I stood up and tossed my unfinished food in the trash, grabbing the attention of the group in the process.
"Where you going john?" Alexander asked, cocking his head to the side.
"Oh-you know I'm really tired, those exams really made me feel like I could finally rest now, so I'm going to head to the apartment early, see you guys later", Alexander stood up worryingly, the Schuylers also turned their attention to me. "Wait I'll go with you." I shook my head, still not facing them. " No, no its fine, you dont have to, I'm just going to sleep. You haven't gotten the chance to see them, its okay. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." And with that, I was gone, heading home. When I unlocked the door, I grabbed the box cutter, walked to the bathroom, and lifted my sleeve up, and began to slice my wrists, creating more lines and ignoring the blood that dripped from each line I made.
This is what you get for being annoying. You deserve it, always fucking things up, like getting involved in things that have nothing to do with you.
I just kept cutting through the salty tears that would land on my wrist, then when it was enough, I washed my arms, biting my lip as the water cleansed the wounds, stinging me as a reminder of what I've done. When my wrists still, bled I took toilet paper and firmly pressed it against the cuts, then waiting until it soaked before I wrapped it and tossed it in the toilet. I cleaned any blood that fell on the floor to hide what I'd done then went back to my room, put the tool away and threw myself on the bed, sobbing into the covers.