Alexandra Hamilton

Thirteen- Takin' In The Sights of the City

We returned from the pet store an hour later, with a bed, two bowls, and a bag of food. As Lin said, "We can get more as the need arises."

I settled on the floor with my new pet, and Lin hesitated. "Are you sure you're okay, after this afternoon?" He asked.

I glanced up. "I'm fine," I assured him with a sarcastic eye roll. He nodded. "Okay. Sorry to press. I've got to go do the show now- remember-"

"Be in my bedroom, make no noise, and pretend like I'm not there," I said in a British accent. Lin made finger guns and clicked his tongue once. "See you later, Big Al."

"You've managed to find a name that's worse than Alexandra," I remarked. Lin laughed, and his footsteps receded down the hall.

I glanced at Violet, who looked rail thin. I poured her a bowl of food, then settled on my bed with a book that Jasmine had dropped off for me earlier. It was called Cinder, featuring a robotic foot in a sleek heel on the cover.

As I got into the first few pages, I sighed, setting it aside. I didn't think I could deal with another 'orphan in a sad home' book right then.

I eased myself backward onto the bed and stared at the ceiling, where spidery, arching shadows were cast by the faint glow of my light strings. The truth was, every I'm fine I ever said was a little white lie. The first time Mr. Thorne pulled me over and asked if I had been eating enough. Yes, sir, I'm fine. The first time I saw Lin. No, I'm fine.

Suddenly, the space was cramping and tiny. I was trapped, I needed to get away, I...

I pulled on a pair of shoes and my coat, slipping silently down the staircase as I heard strains of Right Hand Man in the main theater.

I opened the door of the theater and stepped onto the street. It was really busy- I decided to just walk around the building, then I'd go back inside.

Go fucking figure. The door locked behind me.

After discreetly tugging on the handle for five minutes (to no avail), I sighed, then trudged around the block to the stage door. Funnily enough, that one was unlocked. I tip toed inside, the chorus of Nonstop pounding in my head.

Like a shadow, I darted around the back of the stage. I don't think anyone saw me- oh, the advantages of wearing black clothing.

After meandering around, looking for the stair case, I finally found it, and I slunk back to my room. My head felt less foggy, and the room felt less cramping, but it was still wasn't enough.

I went to the kitchen, and carefully, without making that much noise, got the second burrito and a bottle of water. I grabbed a doughnut from the box on the counter, then carried my feast back to my room on a paper plate. I opened my window and slipped out onto the fire escape, and Violet stumbled out after me.

Absently stroking the kitten's fluffy fur with one hand, I ate while looking around the city. Taxis honked. Sirens wailed. Lights flashed. I must have been sitting there for an hour.

I loved it.

Gripped by a sudden urge, I lifted Violet back into the room and closed the window- not all the way, but enough so that she couldn't get back out. Then I began to climb the fire escape, up, up, to the roof.

The roof itself was pretty boring, but I gave a small gasp as I saw the city in all of its splendor. If I faced south, I could watch the Empire State Building. Even further beyond that, a mere blip, was the Flatiron Building.

I found myself, the reckless thing that I am, sitting on the edge of the theater's roof. A contended sigh slipped out of me, and I kicked my feet against the wall a few times before a sly voice in my head poked its way to the surface.

You could jump, and it would all be over.

Suddenly repulsed, I swung myself securely back onto the rooftop and glared at the ground several stories below. I went to the edge and looked down. I could do it. Then Lin wouldn't have to pay my bills anymore, and I could ensure that Mrs. Thomas would never slap me again.

I looked directly down the side of a building. A little girl, parents in tow, was skipping down the sidewalk. How would her life be scarred if I jumped?

God. Even trying to eliminate my burden-ness, I was a burden.

I backed away from the edge of the roof and clambered back down the fire escape. I swung myself back into my room and closed my window, traipsing to my bed and closing my eyes. I was too afraid to be selfless. I was too afraid to show that I was afraid.

I squeezed my pillow. You know, said a voice, you don't have to be afraid anymore. They aren't ever going to hurt you.

I knew that.

But I also knew from years of abuse that some scars never fade.

So she didn't jump. Good choice, Alex.

Thanks for 230 reads! It means a lot to me.

Also, a question- do you guys think I should publish a Hamilton Trash book? It's like, gifs and Tumblr posts and stuff. Comment what you want!

-Peggy Out