Adopted By Hamilton One Shots

Abi - Keys

(This was written by Ashburn1198 and it's honestly so good like so good it's way better writing than mine, thank you so so so much!)

(So basically this takes place while Abi's in college. Prepare yourselves, my compatriots. Also I'm very not sorry.)
TW: attempted rape

        "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

        My heart stopped.

        I knew that voice. That voice had tormented me for years without end, invading my dreams and telling me to always look over my shoulder. That voice had whispered death threats in my ear so long ago, filling me with an incomprehensible feeling of dread.

        "Long time no see, Princess."

        "Screw off," I said, my voice trembling with fear.

        "Hey, now, didn't your Daddy ever teach you any manners?" the voice drawled condescendingly. "Now, if you'll be so kind, I would like to have a chat with you."

        "No," I said firmly, shaking off my fear. "I don't want to deal with your bullcrap anymore."

        "Aww, honey, what's the matter? Scared?"

        In that moment, all of the fear I had ever felt about the owner of that vice evaporated like a water puddle in Death Valley. He had imprisoned me in my own mind for years, and I had finally found the key. I turned around to face him.

        His black hair was unkempt and sticking up in a few places, not at all being restrained by the baseball cap on his head. He had gotten tanner over the years, and now sported a small black teardrop tattoo at the corner of his right eye. A large leather jacket covered his white stained tee-shirt, paired with a set of faded blue jeans.

        "I'm not scared of you, anymore, Nick," I spat. "Now leave me alone."

        I went to turn around, but then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a nearby alley close to my University. I fought, but I couldn't get free of his grip. He shoved me against the brick wall, the red stone uncomfortably poking into my back.

        "I can see it in your eyes, Abigail," he sneered, pinning me against the wall, my arms above my head. He pressed his body to mine and glared into my eyes. "You're so afraid, and frankly I find it hilarious."

        He then began violently kissing me, and groping my chest. An uncharacteristic rage filled my heart. I quickly kneed him in the groin, which made his hands release my wrists in sheer shock and pain. I punched him in the face, hard. His nose was bleeding profusely.

        He looked at me with anger. "Oh, so that's how we're gonna play, huh?" He punched my gut, but I couldn't feel anything from all the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

        "Yeah," I said simply, taking my keys out of my pocket and placing them in between my fingers like claws. "That's exactly how we're gonna play, bitchbag."

        I punched his face again. The keys sliced him open, and the blow from the rest of my fist deepened the wound. He cried out in shock as I bolted away from the alley and towards the college campus.

        I could hear his feet behind me, pattering against the tough asphalt of the parking lot. With one fluid motion I leapt over a small expanse of grass, and continued running until I finally reached the steps of the Law building.

        Oh look. How convenient.

        I bursted through the doors and ran into a nearby classroom, which was thankfully unoccupied except for a few students and a professor who was helping them with work. I slammed the door behind me and turned to face the Law majors.

        Each of their faces were very confused. The professor looked at me with wide eyes.

        "Ms. Miranda," he cleared his throat. "You aren't the type of person to randomly run into classrooms and slam doors behind you, so I am going to assume that something happened."

        All of my adrenaline began seeping away back into the corners of my brain. I sank down to the floor, breathing heavily, a mixture of sweat and tears running down my face.

        "Someone was chasing me," I said, the tremble returning to my voice. "He tried to rape me in an alleyway."

        They all stood up in unison and ran over to me. One of them called 911.

        "Abi, do you know who it was?" Larissa (abi note: I know someone named Larissa who's going into law, carry on), the girl who was calling the cops, asked tentatively.

        "Nicholas Walter," I said breathlessly. "I've had a lot of trouble with him in the past."

        She nodded, the returned back to her phone call. The police came by later and took my statement and then told me I was free to go.

        I walked home that night, holding my keys like claws, ready to brandish them. They were my swords now; the only things that I could rely on to keep me safe. I bore a snarl on my lips, daring anyone and everyone to come at me when I was still mostly in the rush of adrenaline. I got stares from strangers as I did so, but I didn't give a crap who looked at me and who didn't.

        I knew I was strong.

        And I knew that that would be the last time I ever saw Nicholas Walter walk free.

(HELLO EVERYBODY. This is Ashburn (the author of this oneshot) speaking. I wanted to quickly explain Nick's tattoo, because some of you might know what it means. Basically, in gangs, if you get a tattoo of a teardrop next to your eye it means you killed someone. Nick didn't kill anybody, though (although that would be expected of him at this point). The teardrop actually refers to him killing Abigail's innocence when he sexually assaulted her in the chapter "It's Over Niñita". IDK, I just thought it would be a cool thing to add. OKAY BYE)

Okay, I'm going to the Grand Canyon, please comment requests (they can be repeat requests, can be as sad or outlandish as you want) so I can think about them all the plane

Alright, love you all so much.

Thanks for reading!!