I wanted to do this really bad, and it's been unfinished for a bit, so I decided to start back up on it. This was extremely fun, but also challenging and kind of hard because I know that many of the themes for this are very mature, and I'm going to get into some serious topics.
TW: Mention of abuse, Mention of bullying, Mention of neglect, Anxiety and depression symptoms/behavior, Mention of physical attack.
As you can tell, this is a pretty heavy story. Also, if I miss any triggers can you please tell me? I have a tendency to go overboard with these kinds of things, but better to be safe than sorry.
Alexander Hamilton, the kid who was bullied, abused, harassed, and so many more things.
Everyone had always stayed away from him, immediately when he moved to New York City he was a target for the school's biggest bullies.
He had always worn a sweatshirt, jeans, and a scarf.
Always long sleeves, always long pants, always had his neck covered.
John never batted an eye at him, no one did except Thomas Jefferson, who made Alex's life even more of a living hell.
To everyone else, Alexander was a mysterious, loner type of kid.
That changed when the boy who had straight A's, the boy who had never missed a single day, missed an entire week.
Rumors started flying, and the invisible boy was suddenly the biggest mystery in the school.
The first time John had heard about Alexander was on Wednesday, the third day in a row that he was gone.
John, Hercules, and Lafayette sat at their usual table in the cafeteria, eating their lunch.
"So, you know that Alexander Hamilton kid?" Hercules was the first to bring him up.
"Who?" John wasn't sure who that was.
"He apparently goes to our school. Straight A's, never missed a day of school, this is the third day he's been gone."
"The one who always wears a hoodie and a scarf?" Lafayette asked, moving his attention from his salad to his friends.
"Yeah, him. He's been going here for about three months. Some kids say they saw him with a black eye or something a lot," Hercules shook his head, taking another bite of his burger.
"Wait, I think I overheard some kids saying that they think Jefferson beat him up a lot," John hadn't realized it at the time, but now he slightly remembered.
"Yeah, I've heard that too. Some kids say that they think he was abused or something, always said he was super anxious like that," Hercules flinched, reminiscing on the grave memory.
"I think I heard someone say he was a foster kid, a messed up one at that," Lafayette didn't mean to sound insensitive, he was a foster himself.
"Three months? How would no one notice him?" John had valid reasons for wondering this, three months, and still, no one knew who you were or even noticed your existence, that would have broken John.
"I don't know. I feel kinda bad, though. If he was going through that shit and no one even noticed," Hercules closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
Everyone at that small table section felt the same remorse, that someone could go through that with no friends, with no social outlet.
They all looked up when they heard Jefferson's laughter nearing them.
Jefferson looked them up and down with a disgusted expression, then walked away.
They all broke into laughter, not caring what Jefferson thought.
The conversation turned away from the disturbing topic, rooting more towards more light-hearted subjects. But still, that sinking feeling about Alexander Hamilton scorching John's gut.
The next two days went by normally, still no mysterious scarf boy, making many more theories and absurdities-at least John hoped they were-surface.
It all went smoothly until the next afternoon at roll call at the end of the Thursday school day.
The teacher walked in, wearing a forlorn facial expression.
"Alright, alright, settle down." He went through every name, but what he said next was… well, crazy. "And, do any of you know Alexander Hamilton personally?"
His eyes were met with the shaking heads and confused faces of the students, merely nodding in response.
It seems that that would be the start of more whispers, the school growing restless with every minute that there was no new news on Alexander Hamilton.
Ha, the boy who no one knew existed, he went to the school for three months, Christ. And everyone's just finding out he was even born. Jesus Christ!
So, if he is a foster, then he might have just been moved to a new household. No, the school would be informed. Maybe he just got sick. No again, why wouldn't his guardian call the school?
John went through a few other possibilities, but they all went back to his guardian and the system.
On Monday morning, everyone was expecting to see the infamous Alexander Hamilton, but there came of no such boy. Instead, they were called to the auditorium.
Their principal, George Washington, sat with their superintendent, Phillip Schuyler, and vice principal, John Adams. Shit. This was about to go down.
"Hello, students. Today, we have the annual festivities for the month of October. Now, you will be grouped by your homeroom classes. Phones are allowed today. You may not leave campus without teacher and school knowledge and permission."
Mr. Washington went through a few other rules. John thought that that was the end of it, he thought everyone else probably thought so, too.
Before he could speak, Mr. Schuyler took over.
"And, another thing. A few of you will be taken to the office for voluntary actions. Your teacher will have you go down to the office to see Mr. Washington or Mr. Adams."
Everyone in the room started theorizing once more, wondering if it was about who they thought it was.
I think everyone was secretly hoping they would be chosen to whatever was happening, hoping that it would be about the Alexander Hamilton that was the topic of many of our thoughts. Everyone craved information, closure. We didn't even know the kid, yet it seemed that everyone in the school was constantly fretting over him.
What I wondered was what would happen when-if-he came back to school. Sure, I would love it if this kid was okay, from what I've heard, he has been living in Hell for years. Then again, what did he have to do with me and my friends?
It took me a second when the intercom called six names to go to the office. Hercules Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette-it seems they couldn't be bothered to say his entire name-, John Laurens-fucking great-, Angelica Schuyler, Eliza Schuyler, and Peggy Margarita Schuyler. Wait, what?
Herc, Laf, and I stood, it seems we were all shocked that they called us. What was really shocking was that the Schuyler sisters were called, too. I mean, they were incredible, intelligent girls, but… they just seemed like they would protect each other over anyone else. Except for Eliza, of course.
Elizabeth-or "Eliza" as everyone called her- was the middle child, yet she was so warm and caring, she was friends with anyone and everyone. There were only a few exceptions, clearly, but you have to be absolutely ruthless to earn Eliza's hatred. I'm surprised Eliza didn't know Alexander, she was more often than not always hanging around new kids so that they wouldn't get lost or confused. She was an angel.
Outside the office door, the three sisters sat in chairs aligned against a wall, obviously, they hadn't gotten much information. A second glance at Eliza and I could see she was tearing up. Had she known Alexander? What was his demeanor? Was he as big of a douche as Seabury, or, God forbid, Lee?
We all took our places in a small cluster outside of Mr. Washington's office, awaiting whatever news and tasks that were being expected of us, even though Mr. Washington had said it was a "voluntary action."
It was only a few moments before the door opened, showing Mr. Washington and Mr. Schuyler, the former in a leather-armed chair, the latter at his desk with his hands fiddling and posture stiff.
"Thank you all for coming, now, once I tell what is happening, you can either go on or you can back out. If you refuse, you cannot share this information with anyone, though I trust none of you would do that," Mr. Washington was speaking once we had all entered the suboffice, Mr. Schuyler nodding along with the words.
"Now, this is a very large responsibility. We, Mr. Washington, Mr. Adams, and I, believe that each of you is responsible and trustworthy, so you have been chosen. I have already called each of your parents and have gotten consent, so there will be no need for permission from your guardians." Mr. Schuyler's voice was quite robotic and would have been incredibly boring if it had not been that everyone was hanging off every syllable.
The Schuyler Sisters nodded in unison with Laf, Herc, and I. In my peripheral vision I could see matching expressions of fear on Eliza and Peggy, and a frown and creases etched into Angelica's features.
"All of you agree?" we all knew this question-or clarification, to me it was not clear-was unnecessary.
We all nodded once more, seriousness taking over all of our bodies and itching at our skin. What was so important? What was so terrifying that it gave everyone goosebumps? Everything seemed to be underwater, noises muffled, even though the silence was possibly the loudest thing to ever exist.
"Alright."
I had to brace myself for what was about to be said.
"I'm sure all of are aware of Alexander Hamilton." those words, of course, we know who Alexander Hamilton, who was the person the entire school was talking about? Who no one paid a glance to for three months. Goddammit, John, this isn't the time. What is he was trying to stay out of everyone's way? I didn't know why this hit me so hard, but it did. Like a cannonball hitting a steel wall, not necessarily breaking it, however, still shaking it.
Mr. Washington deemed this a good enough response, as he continued on. "He has been going through some things, and I believe that you six can help him."
"Eliza, didn't you say that you have met him before?" Mr. Schuyler shook the entire world to us at that moment. Eliza had met him? Why hadn't she said anything?
Tears fell down Eliza's face like a small creek in a large forest, nearly silent, flowing gracefully, but this creek was saddened, a million miles away from peaceful.
Everyone had their eyes on her, Angelica shifted to comfort her sister in an embrace, Peggy doing the same. It took her a minute to calm enough to nod her head as an answer to the previous inquiry.
"He… he was really anxious. Like, flight at any second, anxious." Eliza's creek-like tears had turned into a river, flowing much more urgently and roughly, much louder and off-putting.
Mr. Washington nodded, but… why was Alexander still not at school? What happened? Similar questions hung over my head. "Yes, the teachers have reported such behavior. But, there is something else that has happened. Honestly, the administrators should have suspected something like this was going to happen eventually, there were warning signs."
This mini tangent arose many more questions. Though, to sum them up, they all led up to 'What happened?'
Mr. Schuyler knew what we were thinking, or maybe he just inferred his next move by the mixed looks of confusion, slight horror, and bewilderment. "Now, we shall not beat around the bush any longer."
The Schuyler Sisters hooked arms with Laf, Herc, and I, all searching comfort in each other.
"Yes. Mr. Hamilton was attacked by a person or persons the police are not yet aware of."
For a while, I thought this was going a different way, but then I thought of the ending. Just to clarify, this is a high school, foster (that will definitely come into play very soon), modern au. I saw this Pinterest writing prompt about a kid who always wore a scarf, and I thought that this was super cool.
Also, the way Alexander's style and behavior will be very, very, crucial, so make sure to keep a lookout for stuff like that, they'll help with a few things in future chapters, too.
I do not have this one previously written, and with school, dance (we are starting to learn our new choreography and skills), along with my school's band, I do not have as much time I wish I did to write. Halloween's coming up, too, so I'm starting to make plans for holidays.
Stay safe, have a good day. Bye!