Attention (Jamilton)

Part 1: It's Because

 !!TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM!!

Alexander's POV

It was the middle of the night and, as usual, I couldn't sleep. I roll up my sleeve and look at my scars. I wonder if my soulmate has them. I've heard rumors that your soulmate feels any pain that you feel, but those might just be rumors. I wish that there was some way you could find your soulmate instead of just wild guessing, but at least I know they exist. I get up and pace around for a bit before putting in my earbuds and turning on Broadway music. I find it soothing because characters in the musicals usually have problems or conditions that I can empathize with. The pain filled lyrics fill my head and push away the negative thoughts.  It takes me several minutes, but I finally drift off to sleep.

The next morning I am awoken by a ferocious beeping in my ears. Right, it's the first day of my junior year in high school. I yank my earbuds out and stare into the mirror. Something doesn't seem right. I can't place it being this tired, but I tell myself I'll look into it later. I throw on skinny jeans and a loose green hoodie before chugging a coffee and putting on a little makeup: foundation, powder, blush, eyeliner, and mascara. I then drink another coffee. It must've been around four when I went to sleep, and I wake up at six o clock. Two hours is perfect. Barely enough to function and just short enough to leave a nightmare undeveloped. And they wonder why I struggle in class. 

I look in the mirror again. I still can't place what's wrong, but I know that I look tired. I pull my shoulder length hair into a bun, but it doesn't help much. I open my desk drawer and inside of it sits a little box with a variety of blades. I choose a jagged one and slice five marks onto my wrist. I pull my sleeve down, take a deep breath, and sling my backpack over my shoulder. 

The school is in walking distance, which is horrible because it gives my fifteen minutes alone with either my thoughts, or Thomas Jeffershi... Jefferson. My bully since middle school. It's all a matter of whether I can make it past his window before he sees me. I sneak past his house using the back roads. The moment I start thinking that he's feeling nice today, I hear him behind me. 

"Hey, where are you headed today Hamilshit?" He sneers. I walk a little faster. 

"School." I try to pull my hood up but he grabs it instead. He spins me around to where I'm facing him and looks me dead in the eye. He picks me up and raises his fist like he's going to punch me, smiling.

"Ready you little bastard?" He asks. I start crying. I've never cried in front of him before, but it's been six years of this nearly every day, and today I just can't take it. I look up into his eyes again. He punches me square in the nose. I cry harder. I hate him. 

"Crying because your daddy left you?" He says. 

"Please," I whimper, "not today." 

His expression softens. He sets me down. And he hugs me. A million thoughts flood through my head. Why is he hugging me?  Why did he set me down? Why is today any different than any other day? I continue sobbing. Even if it's an act, even if it's Jefferson, it's still nice to be in someone's embrace. The Washington family, my adopted family, doesn't really pay attention to me as I'm not one of their "natural" children. I get my own space, food, and clothing and that's pretty much it. 

"I am so sorry." He whispers in my ear. I push away from him. I don't want his apology, it's probably fake anyways. 

"Why? What makes today any different than every single fucking day for the past six years?" I shout. I ball my fists. 

"It's because today I realized what a sick fuck I am." He whispers with his head hung low. "Walk with me?" He offers. 

I unclench my hands. "Please just punch me again." I say, another tear finding it's way down my cheek. 

"No." He says. He glances down at my arm, where the sleeve from the loose shirt rolled itself up. His eyes widen in horror. 

"Hamilton, you... you cut?" A drop of blood trickles down my wrist. 

I nod, pulling down my sleeve. He tries to take my wrist and look at them again, but it pull it away.

"Get off me! You're the reason why, anyways!" I scream. He takes a small step back in shock. I know that I've hit him in a weak spot. "Yeah! I hope you're happy, you bastard, bullying me and making me feel like I deserve this! Like I'd never be anything!" I start sobbing again and panting for breath. I crumple to the sidewalk. 

"Alex I-" He starts but I cut him off.

"Don't call me Alex. That's not my name." I give him a venomous stare. I notice him wipe a tear off his cheek.

"I never realized that I was doing this to you; that it was this bad." He glances at my now rolled up sleeve.

"Well it was."

"Please walk with me."

 We start to walk along the sidewalk next to each other. There are several moments of silence before he draws in a large breath and starts to talk.  

"I hate myself because of what I'm about to tell you." He says to me. "But you have to understand." 

I nod.

"It was my way of getting your attention. That's the way I've always treated people, and I know it's horrible but I can't stop. I don't know where it came from, but I've done it since I was a kid." He says with deep regret. 

"Why me? Out of every person that you could've gotten the attention of, you picked me? Why?" I ask. 

"It's because...because..." He doesn't say anything besides that. 

"Because you're a huge dick who just likes being mean to people. That's why." I start to stomp away.

"IT'S BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!!!" He shouts.