Author note: this is a brief description if you are absolutely sure you want to read this. Three questions to ask yourself. 1) do you ship founding fathers, presidents, Vice Presidents, or anything political to help you cope with their death or with social studies class? If you do, and move to the next question. If not, slowly back out of this a pretend like you red nothing. For those of you who survived the last question, do you ship people with their assassins? If not, run far, far, far away and forget. If you do, continue. The last question. Do you read or write this sort of stuff normally? If you do, great, continue to the story. If not, you are normal. Are you sure you want to mess that up?
For those of you whom survived the entire thing, this is a fanficton I wrote during social studies class. It is during the civil war era and is from Lincoln's P.O.V. I hope you like it. Keep in mind it is a work in progress.
A dark shadow stood before my doorstep. It hesitated a moment, and just as I place my hands on the cold brass locks, a soft rapping came from the other side. I moved closer to the locks and unhinged them, cracking the door open in the process. Leaving room for me to peer out and scan the surrounding horizon.
"Abe..." a raspy voice called from behind the veil of shade upon their face.
I could tell whom it was. But, I didn't want to remember. Those many nights prior. The affair with one wom I could ne re love due to my society forbidding it.
"Come in..." I whisper hastily back.
Edging the door open enough for the cloaked character to slip through and into my parlor.
"I can't forget..." they started.
"You must." I calmly cut them off.
Taking them in my arms, holding them close, I tried to go on.
"I have a wife and children. And that's why this affair, while tempting, is highly unpresidential."I explained quítely hoping to not awaken my houseshold.
Pushing me away, tears stamped down the face of my doe-eyed lover.
"Then quit. For me." They gasped.
Taking their hood off, the dim light revealed the saddened facial features. Black, elegant, curly hair that was more beautiful than fresh silk. Deep, brown eyes, richer than a newly tilled field after the rain. Light, soft lips, resembling a freshly bloomed cherry blossom.
"I...I...I..." I stuttered quietly, but couldn't finish.
Tears began just as hands gentler than a mother's with a newborn in her arms, pulled me closer. Then, those soft lips pressed gently first on my cheek, then my lips. A few seconds later, they pulled back.
"Please."they pleaded.
"I'm sorry...I can't John." I whispered back.
Furious, he pushed me back. His makeup from the previous night's play at the Ford's theater running.
"John...please don't cry." I murmured in an empathetic tone." If times were different..." I begun but in a sudden outburst of screams he begun. I wish our fight never happened.
"You always use excuses! I thought you were a right timing sorta guy!" He shouted
" I am." I murmured forcefully.
"Well the war is almost over! Introduce more than the abolishment of slavery into the nation with me!" He lashed back.
I was appalled, he never yelled at me. His once warm, welcoming eyes, now blazed a temperature fierce enough to melt flesh. Exhaling deeply, I planted myself on my arm chair.
"I want too, but the state of our nation, especially in the south is detrimental. If I announce my love for you, not only would the south be torn again, but I would likely be impeached. It is likely that it is unlawful. Also, coming from a family bound to the church, I would be shunned." I
"Well the war is almost over! Introduce more than the abolishment of slavery into the nation with me!" He lashed back.
I was appalled, he never yelled at me. His once warm, welcoming eyes, now blazed a temperature fierce enough to melt flesh. Exhaling deeply, I planted myself on my arm chair.
" I want too, but our nation is in a detrimental state. If I announce my love for you, not only would the south be torn again, but I would likely be impeached. It is likely that it is unlawful. Also, coming from a family of the church, I would be shunned." I told him, avoiding his disappointed gaze. This only exasperated him further.
"Abraham?"called my wife. She had previously retired and was sleeping deeply when I confronted my midnight visitor.
"Who are you talking to?" She wearily inquired.
"No one, dear. Please go back to sleep." I reassured her.
Shuffling and a door closing softly followed shortly after.
"Abraham." He whispered through gritted teeth, clearly trying to hold back his wrath.
"John Wilks..." I said, looking deep into his hurt soul.
I truly loved him. However, I couldn't seem to find the words to tell him so.
"Good bye." He snapped after two minutes of tense silence.
I blocked him from the brass knob, still stuttering.
"In seven days, there will be another play. Meet me after the performance so we can talk privately." He notified me while shoving me out of his path.
Stunned, I shuffled to my previous seat. I touched my hand to my face as to rest my eyes and chin on it, but found tears I never knew were there. The fire crackled, smoke dancing up the chimney, reminding me of his eyes. I fell asleep in my arm chain with him engraved in my mind. Him and one simple question. Why?
To be continued...