Travel into History

It's More of a Song

Hamilshit just keeps walking, acting like he doesn't know me, which in all purposes he doesn't know me at all. I stop flailing around; chuckling awkwardly under my breath following said man that I was purposefully embarrassing.

 I take a moment to glance at my surroundings and what I see is wondrous and intimidating all coinciding into one momentous occasion. People milling about in old timey dresses and clothes that they put together themselves. It's astonishing what these people will accomplish in the future. 

Men going off and working to support their wives and children. Women sewing and cleaning, which is sexist but I'm no longer in my time anymore, so whatever. There wasn't anyone on their phones or other electronics and the world wasn't subject to collapse by nuclear war and Donald Trump. It was peaceful in a way until we traipsed around a street corner, where passerby were standing around disturbing the public with meaningless obscenities at someone, probably some criminal. Hamilshit grabs my scrawny ass Asian arm and drags me straight into the rioting crowd of people.

I'm not sure how we got to the front of the riot, that I just now noticed was a political debate? What the hell is happening right now, did Hamilshit just jump onto the platform? Is he arguing with this guy? Wait a minute is that Seabury? Samuel Seabury?! This cannot be happening right now! I scream internally, jumping up and down ecstatic as a pig when it sees food.

 I'm so ready for this verbal BEATING Ham Slam is going to bring down unto Sea Brains head. I didn't realize that I had started squealing out loud and people were now staring at me with this intense gaze that I was sure would ultimately annihilate my body down all the way towards the depths of Hell; fortunately for myself, Hamilton came to my rescue finally starting the debate.

I stood there mesmerized at Hamilton's ability to transform his words cleverly into something of a song. It was lyrical, enticing, and completely inspiring. I'm not sure how it came to this but it was as if I was transfixed solely on Hamilton's words.

The next thing I realize is I'm being shoved and pushed around by a couple of big burly men. What the hell are they doing shoving a scrawny woman around like this? Who do they think they are? I'm not completely sure why I called myself a woman because obviously I have somehow miraculously been shoved into some poor saps body. I can hear Hamilton finally closing out with his last statement. Thank the Lord! He jumps down off the platform he was standing on, stops for a moment talking to someone. Must be Aaron Burr. Oh my gosh if I get to meet the guy who shot Alexander Hamilton I am going to scream and probably punch him in the face for his stupidity.

"Hello Burr, sir." I say when I see Hamilton leading THE Aaron Burr towards me. I chuckle softly into my right fist gracefully extending my left hand out for Burr to shake. He grabs my hand in a sturdy grasp, shaking it once before letting go. He sends a scowl Hamilton's way, wiping his hand on his pants like touching me was the worst thing that could have happened to him. "What? Did I give you Cooties?" I ask putting my fingers at the sides of my mouth and pulling at the corners into a funny face spitting a raspberry at him.

He stares at me in utter shock; mouth agape. He finally composes himself and splutters "My God, Hamilton the company you keep. He's probably only 12." His scowl somehow deepens more, marring his features into one of disgust. Who does he think he is calling me a fucking 12 year old? I'm 19 think you very much, Asshole Burr. I think narrowing my eyes directly in line with Burrs. Hamilton feeling the tension; so thick that you could cut it with a knife, interrupts putting himself in so much danger by trying to break up the intense staring contest that I was having with Burr. Aaron blinked, glancing towards Hammie eyeing him momentarily before pounding his chest with his fist and coughing intensely. I stick my tongue out at him; saying 'I won, you lose ha ha.' Because honestly though, I WON! Aaron just scoffs turning away with his head held high, posture stiffening like he was some old man who had a problem with everyone who wasn't rich or proper.

"Take that bitch." I say loud enough for Burr to hear. He whirls around stomping directly towards me, arms swinging around rapidly trying in vain to find some common ground between the rest of his body and his arms. Burr grabs me by the collar of my freshly pressed shirt (or at least I think its freshly pressed) and wrenches my scrawny body up off the ground. I grab the hand that's holding my body up in the air (man I'm small) sinking my nails deep into the skin of his pointer finger; pinching harder until he wrenches free of my sharp nails.

"Man, can I beat him up yet?" I mumble under my breath, Hamilton shaking his head in exasperation. Aaron glares daggers at me, I can tell he wants to punch me in the face but I also know Hamilton won't let him. Alexander is my knight in shining armor, well if I needed one that is.

 I started thinking about when he would steal some cannons and then coincidentally meet the other trouble makers that followed him around throughout the war. I'm excited to meet Lafayette, I wonder if he's as gorgeous as Hamilton is in this life. I shake my head to somehow focus back onto the present, waving good-bye to Burr in the most feminine way that I could manage, jutting out my hip with a hand on my waste; batting my long black lashes at him and saying, "Buh-Bye Burr, sir" in the gayest way possible.

Burr shakes his head in utter disgust walking away mumbling under his breath about sodomites and the like. I turn to stare at Hamilton voicing my concern, "I thought you said he was nice?" I ask sarcastically. "He was extremely banal, and he had no reason to grab my shirt like some kind of brute." I snarl, scowling down at the road we were standing on, raising my head up to glance around I notice people watching.

Suddenly becoming self-conscious from all the stares, I huddle in on myself, everything that's happened in the past 4 hours coming to light. Holy shit I'm dead and in the 1700's. How the hell does this even happen? Am I going to be expected to join the war and fight for my country? I don't know how to fight in a war? Is Hamilton going to torture me for answers about the war if he finds out that I'm from the future? What about Washington or the King of England and his lackeys? I can feel Alexander's eyes on me in concern, poking my right arm he asks, "Hey Hisaki, are you alright?"

I stare at him, eyes trying in vain to focus on those optimistic blue eyes that seem to embrace so much apprehension for my wellbeing in those suffocating depths, it feels like I'm staring into the watery sea when I gaze into his eyes, feeling the salty sea breeze in the air, against my skin. I'm calm again, determination lights up my emerald green eyes, staring deep into those ocean orbs; I nod. Putting a big smile on my face, I shove the bad thoughts to the back of my mind, I inform, "I'm just fine, Hamilton."

Hamilton just grins at the smile on my face, taking my hand in his, we walk back to the college. In high spirits, we traipse along the sidewalk hand in hand, the lanterns around us lighting up our path to the well-renowned university. I've gotta say this has been a very good day but I need some sleep. I hope Hamilton will let me stay with him. I think as we walk along, coming across a small building Alex enters, me following behind, a young man barrels out of one of the rooms to the left and picks Alex up hugging him so tightly I didn't think Ham slam could breathe.

"This man is Hercules Mulligan. We are going to be staying with him for a while." He says gesturing towards the big brute of a man. His short brown hair falling haphazardly over his forehead, stormy gray eyes holding an intense stare with my own green eyes. He was big, meaning more so on the tall side but he did have some muscle. Bulky arms and legs, big feet that would probably be a size 13 or 14 in men. What the hell am I thinking, this guy is made of muscle. I think to myself holding out my hand towards Mulligan and saying "Hello, I'm Onohara Hisaki. Where is the bedroom?" I ask walking further into the house. I didn't want to seem rude, but I really wanted to sleep, time travel does that to a person, plus we've been running around all damn day.

Mulligan gestures down the hall to my left, "Down that hall, first room on the right. Oh, and nice to meet you, Onohara." I turn down the hall, opening the wooden door and running towards the bed, gasping when I land on the bed face down, feeling the lightness of the feathers in the mattress and pillows. Oh, shit this bed feels nice. I ponder before succumbing into a deep restful sleep.