Hamilton One Shots

Memories

"Philip?"

Rising from her pillow, forehead dripping with sweat, Angelica looked for her brother. The realization that she was alone hit her like a brick. The walls seemed to be caving in on her the longer she stared into the pitch black. Her breaths stayed steady, but she was internally worried.

"Philip!" The second time she said his name it came out as more of a shrill noise. Panic pumped through her veins and she gripped the sheets beneath her. Her voice echoed around the room, making her feel very small.

From outside her door, she could hear the sound of footsteps. Both of her parents burst through the door, gasping and running to her side. At the sound of her distress, they had flung themselves from their bed. Months and months they had struggled with this, so the routine seemed familiar.

"Angelica, hush." Pressing her face to her daughter's, Eliza whispered how everything was alright. But was it? Angelica peered at the two figures at her bedside. Two blurs of nothing. She tried to force herself away, but only got pulled closer.

While their intentions seemed familiar, their faces were distant. Scared out of her mind, she edged away from them. Sensing her worry, the two of them leaned closer, whispering how her brother wasn't there. How they had told her many times.

"Who are you?!"

The figures only stepped closer again. They couldn't tell how she feared their every movement. They didn't know how much she wanted to curl up and sob. They didn't know her anymore.

"We're your parents, Angelica. Trust us. As many times we may have to tell you, we will never give up on you." Eliza knew she wasn't losing hope. But as she turned to her breathless husband, words got twisted in her mouth.

Praying he wasn't thinking of worse options for their daughter, she stuttered, "A-Alexander?"

The man before them only covered his mouth, tears streaming down his features. Nights had passed where he hadn't slept, but instead stayed by his girl's bedside as she wept for her dead brother. God had struck down on his angel and he couldn't understand why.

Of all the things they had lost, hope hadn't been one. Until his wife turned to him and questioned him. That was the moment he knew things needed changing. Angelica was a grown person, almost twenty. She deserved the best, but that couldn't be given under his roof.

"I-I think we should-"

Eliza jumped from the bed, locking her pale hands onto his shoulders. "Don't you dare say it. Please." She was desperate. And it made her even more anxious at his tone, because she knew what he would say.

"She needs to get care from someone who knows what they're doing. We can't go on like this, eventually we'll be the ones going crazy."

"Our daughter isn't crazy!" Eliza collapsed beside her child, running a hand on her heated cheek. Angelica flinched and muttered something under her breath. She shrunk away from her mother and faced a wall.

Alexander pulled his wife up by the arm, intensely whispering, "Look, you know this is the last resort. But you also know that neither of us are going to be able to take care of her like this for the rest of our days. She doesn't even recognize us anymore. I-I can't-"

Eliza shushed him, wrapping herself into his arms. They both glanced over at their daughter, who was still frozen on the edge of her bed, back facing them. Something about the way she was positioned was utterly haunting.

What they had said that night didn't fade too far away. Alexander made plans to meet with some medical help, people who were trustworthy. He tried to find the person his dear Angelica would be the most comfortable around. But it still bothered him at the thought of one of those people taking his girl away.

An issue arose about this situation. Eliza realized they'd have to address this news to their daughter and try to relieve any stress or worry she might experience. The thought of her realizing she wouldn't be staying with them was frightening and upsetting.

But that day came within the blink of an eye. It seemed like the best idea to say it upfront and clearly. Otherwise the message wouldn't get through correctly.

Alexander found himself beside his daughter one afternoon, listening to her play the piano beautifully. Tears formed in his eyes. He had been the one to teach her piano. She stopped playing all of a sudden and murmured, "Why are you crying?"

Even though the fact she didn't say father at the end of that sentence struck him harder than it should've, he firmly replied. "You just play the piano lovely, dear."

She may have been struggling with a mental illness, but that didn't mean she wasn't as sharp as she had been before. "Lying will only make you cry harder. Philip says lying will come back to bite you, if you aren't careful."

Philip. Alexander but the inside of his cheek, surely making droplets of blood appear. A shiver went up the back of his spine. "And what does your brother know of lying?" He scolded himself for saying such a thing. "I mean, I'm not lying. I-I-"

Angelica watched as her father crouched over, completely sobbing. She blinked a few times, before wrapping her arms around him. She didn't understand why he felt the need to cry, but she wasn't there to judge.

"I'm sending you somewhere," his muffled voice began. Angelica leaned a little closer to his concealed face. "And you might not see your mother or myself around there all the time, but I promise you, the man caring for you will be the best."

What? Angelica backed away from her father, hand accidentally hitting the keys on the piano as she moved. It made a loud bang sound, which caused her to cry out. That noise sounded so familiar. She suddenly had a flash of memory of her brother lying on a bed, blood gushing out of his body.

That couldn't be right. Philip was alive.

"Why are you sending me away? I thought you loved me?!" Angelica covered her mouth with one hand. She noticed her mother watching from another chair in the room. She felt foolish that she hadn't been aware of her presence.

"Oh, don't think for a second we never loved you. You're our daughter. We-"

"If you truly love me, if you ever did, you wouldn't be doing this. I haven't done a thing wrong, please don't send me away." Angelica could only see her parents though clouded bad teary eyes. She didn't know where she was or who they were anymore. They just seemed to be ghosts, figments of her imagination.

Eliza leapt to her feet. But she had been too late. Angelica suddenly fell to her own feet, murmuring under her breath, "I don't know who you are." And she wasn't lying. In that short period of time she had lost track of who they were.

A flashback of her parents helping her take her first steps appeared in her mind. Their hands were tightly on hers with every step she took down the hall. Up ahead she could see her brother, clapping his hands and cheering for her. Philip. She only had to take a few more steps and then she'd reach him.

But that memory was washed away just as quickly as it came alive. Reality swept her back onto her feet. Angelica found herself on the floor with both of her parents watching her from a distance. She grabbed the siding of a wall and hoisted herself to her feet.

With an unforgiving look at them, she headed for the staircase. She didn't take her eyes off their distressed figures until they and vanished around a corner.

And once they had gone out of her sight, all she managed to do was crumble down on her knees and sob. Of all the things her mental illness may have taken away, memories weren't one of them. So she kept those close to her, even when her own home was nothing but a distant vision.

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A/N: This has been in my drafts for quite some time. So on the historical side of things, Angelica was eventually taken into care by a man by the name of Dr. Macdonald. Whether or not that was later in her life, I made this to exhibit her young spirit, which indeed kept with her until her death. She did live until the age of seventy three; two years more than her mother. I'm honestly so intrigued in her story, so I hope you guys liked this!