Hola, my name is Paige and this is my first Hamilton fan fiction. Please excuse my awful writing and try to enjoy this piece of work. Any criticism or compliments are welcome along with plot suggestions. Enjoy!
The wind whistled through the crevices of rocks as the sun set on the island of Nevis. The sky was a sickening yellow as death swam through the air. I sat on the docks staring at the calm waves softly crashing against the coast as I awaited the arrival of the ship. The ship that was to take me to New York. Nothing was left for me here now. Mamá? Dead. James? England. Dad? May as well be dead. My entire town was destroyed. I've got...nothing. Nothing but painful memories and a ticket for that ship. As I looked out to the ocean, I pulled at a thread on my tattered, green hoodie. My reflection stared back at me, mocking me. My coffee coloured hair was greasy and thrown into a messy bun at the back. It was in desperate need of a wash, but, can you blame me? I haven't exactly had time to worry about myself.
My name is Alexander Hamilton. This is my life, and there's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait...just you wait. This was my chance to go and make something out of my life, my chance to make my time on this earth worthwhile because you never know how long you have left. I know that better than anyone. Any moment could be your last, at the snap of fingers your life could flicker out of existence like a candlelight. That's okay, I'm not afraid of dying anymore. In all honesty, I imagine death so much it feels much like a memory than anything else. What I will do when that time finally comes is as much a mystery to me as it is to everyone else and that's just the way it goes I suppose.
Only days ago, the now calm atmosphere was flooded with panic and death as the hurricane swept my island. I was among the minuscule fraction of survivors of this natural disaster and I felt so empty. How can I have stared death in the face so many times yet always walk on through the storm practically unscathed. I just can't seem to die...it's only a matter of time.
"Alexander Hamilton?" A young man tapped me on my shoulder. He looked at me with pity and sorrowfulness in his eyes. A look I now know too well as loss follows me like a lost puppy wherever I go. An inescapable burden that lingers behind me with every step I take.
"Sí señor. I am Alexander Hamilton." I responded.
"Hola. I'm here to take you to New York. My name is Peter Lytton, your cousin." The man held his hand out to help me up which I gratefully accepted.
"Gracias. It's nice to meet you Peter. The circumstances? Not so much." I looked to the floor in despair when tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I came to terms with all that I had lost. It hit me like a brick wall. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and looked up to meet the kind eyes of my cousin. He gave me a reassuring smile and led me to the ship which now sat waiting for me. This is it and let me tell you, I am not throwing away my shot.
"So, Alexander. You will be staying with me for a few days before you to Columbia College. You have a dorm set up but don't hesitate to come visit me if you need anything. I only live a few blocks away." Peter said with a look of...sadness? I couldn't be sure, I was too distracted by the subject of my new school.
I somehow managed to get this scholarship. I'm not entirely sure how but this was an opportunity I certainly won't throw away. Maybe it had something to do with that report I wrote on the last hurricane to hit, not this one, the one a few years after Mamá…
Never mind that now.
"Merci Peter, I really appreciate this. More than you can know." I thanked him without realising my switch in language.
"Three languages and you're only 19? I'm almost impressed." He gave me a slight smirk which I returned.
"Yes. Take the liberty of having a Spanish speaking mother, a French speaking island and a dream of going to New York."
"Oh, so you have only recently learned English?" He asked.
"About a year and a half ago I knew little to no English. I'm good at learning languages I suppose." I chuckled softly as I watched his expression go from impressed to shocked. I get that a lot.
We boarded the boat together and found our cabin. It wasn't a very big ship, but it's all we could afford considering neither me nor my cousin had a lot of money. Actually, I have no money. I should probably get a job when I get to America, I can't rely on the cousin I met only moments ago for the rest of my life, I have to do this for myself.
The room we were sharing for this voyage was simple and plain with two beds and a small window. The space was incredibly limited, but it didn't seem to matter considering mine and my cousin's skinny physique. Me? There wasn't enough food to go around on my island and so we often went hungry to the point of being dangerously underweight, but that didn't bother me. People had it worse. Peter? He was bigger than me, but he was still very skinny. You could see his bones sticking out of his shirt like razor blades. I decided against bringing this up, however, as I got the feeling that it might be a sensitive topic. After all, I know next to nothing about this man and have no clue what he has been through, or what he could still possibly be going through. It's best to just keep your mouth shut, Alex.
As the boat began to move, I felt a wave of anxiety crash through me. I just wanted to cry, but no. You can't disappoint Mamá like that. If she was still here with me, she would say, 'Paciencia y fe'. A phrase she would often use to calm my nerves and 'outbursts' as I preferred to call them. I don't really know what they are, but when I have them I lose all concept of reality and it's like I can't control anything which makes me feel alone, anxious and...angry. I haven't had one in a long time though, which is rare considering after Mamá...passed, I used to get them more regularly. They appeared to have stopped in the past few weeks, the calm before the storm, which only filled me with more dread.
I glanced at Peter to get a better look at the only remaining relative I had contact with left. He was a tall man who didn't look to more than twenty-five years old? Twenty-six at most. He had light golden skin much like my own and big chocolate eyes, something else we shared. I could see the resemblance between us more and more as I took in his features. The same scratchy stubble and jawline. These traits were from my mother's side of the family. His face always wore a soft smile when someone was looking, but when he thought nobody was, he looked...sad. More than sad...empty. Maybe he was just grieving for his birth place, but I can't help but feel there is more to it than that.
All my thoughts were put on hold as his soft voice pulled me back into reality.
"Are you excited to go to your new school?" He asked me as if he was looking for any topic to break the tension in the room.
"Extremely. I really think this is my chance, its just gonna be a non-stop struggle to keep my scholarship." I answered. You can't blow this, Alex. You can't be the disappointment everyone expects you to be. What would James say? What about Mamá? "Tell me something about yourself, Peter. I want to get to know my cousin." I needed anything to spare my mind from the overwhelming pressure on my shoulders. It can't hurt to learn more about my cousin either.
"Well. I'm twenty-five," I knew it, 'I was born on the island but moved to New York with my father before he passed. I'm a bartender, I don't earn much but it's enough to live off. That's pretty much all there is to me, I of course know your story. My condolences by the way."
"Gracias. I am quite the sob story, aren't I?" I sighed, subconsciously picking at the skin on my hands.
"It's not the past that defines us, Alexander. It's what we choose to do to move forward that counts. Everything happens for a reason and you just have to trust that things will get better. As my mother and Abuela used to say, 'Paciencia y fe'." I gave him a soft smile as I remembered Mamá's words once more. I guess she wasn't the only one in our family to say that.
I picked up a book which I had brought with me for the long journey ahead of us. It was one of the few items to survive the storm and I liked to think of it as a lucky charm. A childish belief, I know, but it's all I had to comfort me in these difficult times. I began to read quietly to myself as I slowly started to drift out of consciousness. I hadn't realised how tired I was. I hadn't slept in maybe two, three days? The desire to rest overcame all my other senses as I gave in to the darkness of sleep. Tomorrow will be the day I step into the greatest city in the world.
I'm ready America. Are you?