It's Only A Matter Of Time

I'm Ready America. Are You?

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 whistles through the crevices of rocks as the sun sets on the island of Nevis. The sky is a sickening yellow as death swims through the air. I am sat on the docks staring at the now calm waves softly crashing against the coast as I await the arrival of the ship. The ship that was to take me to New York. Nothing is left for me here now. Mamá? Dead. James? England. Dad? May as well be dead. My entire town is destroyed. I have...nothing. Nothing but painful memories and a ticket for this ship.

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 is 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 hours ago, the now calm atmosphere was flooded with panic and death as the hurricane swept my island. I am among the minuscule fraction of survivors of this natural disaster and I feel 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 taps me on my shoulder. He looks 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 respond.

'Hola. I'm here to take you to New York. My name is Peter Lytton, your cousin.' The man holds his hand out to help me up which I gratefully accept.

'Gracias. It's nice to meet you Peter. The circumstances? Not so much.' I look to the floor in despair when tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I come to terms with all that I have lost. It hits me like a brick wall. I feel a firm hand on my shoulder and look up to meet the kind eyes of my cousin. He gives me a reassuring smile and leads me to the ship which now sits waiting for my. 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 says with a look of...sadness? I can't be sure, I am too excited and anxious of my new school.

I somehow managed to get this scholarship. I'm not entirely sure how but this is an opportunity I certainly will not throw away. Maybe it had something to do with that report I wrote on the last hurricane to hit, not this one, the one just after Mamá...

Never mind that now.

'Merci Peter, I really appreciate this. More than you can know.' I thank him without realising my switch in language.

'Three languages and you're only 19? I'm impressed.' He gives me a slight grin which I return.

'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 asks.

'About a year and a half ago I knew little to no English. I'm good at learning languages I suppose.' I chuckle as I watch his expression go from impressed to shocked. I get that a lot.

We board the boat together and find our cabins. It isn't a very big ship, but it is all we could afford considering neither me nor my cousin had a lot of money. 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 as me and my cousin were very skinny. 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 blades. I didn't bring this up, however, as I thought it could be a sensitive topic. After all, I know next to nothing about this man and have no clue what he has been through.

As the boat begin to move, I felt a wave of anxiety hit me. I just wanted to cry, but no. I can't disappoint Mamá like that. If she was still here with me, she would say, 'Paciencia y fe' which means to have patience and faith. A phrase she would often use to calm my nerves and outbursts as I prefer 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 appear to have stopped in the past few weeks, the calm before the storm, which only fills me with more dread.

I glance at Peter to get a better look at the only remaining relative I have contact with left. He is a tall man who didn't look to more than twenty-five years old? Twenty-six at most. He has light golden skin much like mine 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. This was a trait from my mother's side. 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 is just grieving for his birth place, but I can't help but feel there is more to it than that.

All my thoughts are put on hold as his soft voice pulls me back into reality.

'Are you excited to go to your new school?' He asks me as if he is 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 answer feeling more pressure put on my shoulders to succeed. 'Tell me something about yourself, Peter. I want to get to know my cousin.'

'Well. I'm twenty-five,' I knew it, 'I was born on the island but moved to New York with my father. I'm a bartender, I don't earn much but it's enough to live off. That's pretty much all there is too me, I of course know your story. My condolences by the way.'

'Gracias. I am quite the sob story, aren't I?' I sigh.

'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 our family always said...'

'Paciencia y fe.' We recite in unison. I give him a subtle smile as I remember Mamá's words once more.

I pick 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 like to think of it as a lucky charm. A childish belief, I know, but it's all I have to comfort me in these difficult times. I begin to read quietly to myself as I slowly start to drift out of consciousness. I hadn't realised how tired I was. I hadn't slept maybe two, three days? The desire to rest overcame all my other senses as I give 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?