"My heart yearns to see you one last time Alexander Hamilton. My dear, boy" I whisper out loud. Reaching my bloody hand towards the summer sky. My voice is barely heard as I fall into the abyss of darkness. Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens joined the American Revolution in August 1777 and served loyally until his death in August 1782 at the Combahee River, South Carolina. Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens died by his injuries. He was shot multiple times in the saddle and died before he hit the ground. I made the story as historically accurate as I possibly could have made it, but it does contain some fiction. (This story will not be continued any further as it is a short story)

If you were to ask Alexander Hamilton to describe himself on a regular day, he might say that he was a lawyer or a statesman, perhaps a general and veteran from the revolutionary war. If pressed, he might admit that he was an author and founder of the New York Post. However, if you were to ask him today, he would simply reply "exhausted." Sometimes it's when we're most vulnerable that we can finally face our truths, whether that be the ghosts of neglected friendships, memories of a war not five years past, or, as he found himself face to face with on this cold autumn's evening, a pile of crumpled letters pushed towards the back of his desk. • • • • • An 18th century tale of letters, flames, and acceptance inspired by 'Hello My Old Heart' by the Oh Hellos.