Hamilton Whump

Yeet to the before. (Pt. 1)

Part two is over on my Meet The Hamilsquad book because this isn't really the place for this.

Definitely not 'Вlаsт то тне Раsт'.

I'm in it. And theres some angst but- I decided to have some fun because i always think about this crazy shit. I'm not using my real name, let's call me... Cassie.

I didn't think the stupid 'back in time' spell on my Pinterest board would actually fucking work. Congrats,  Cassie. You just screwed up the entire space-time continuum around your atoms and not only that, but you probably are in a completely different part of the world.

And falling. What was with that!? There was no portal to spit me out, I just kinda blipped outta existence and back into. And as I hurtled towards the roof of a very nice looking house, I cringe.

So my last moments are going to be spent somewhere I've never been, crashing through a roof. Possible impaled. 

Great! Lovely! Fantastic!

But science class (potentially) saves me yet again. 

I remember one time we watched a video about bones. If you completely relaxed, or were unconscious, your bones could withstand the g-force of being thrown from a mile up and you could live. 

I have no idea if that applies to a screaming, flying teenager girl but if it does then it's my only hope.

As I'm maybe 100 feet from the roof-top I close my eyes and go slack- exhaling so I don't get the wind knocked out of me. 

Dead silence minus the whoosh in my ears.   

I feel my side hit the roof and pain erupts in my entire body. I don't know if the cracking was my bones or the roof- probably both. My mind is covered in white- I can't see- I can't feel- and then the white turns black and I think no more.

I open my eyes as people talk around me- a soft man's voice, and two women's voices by the sound of it. Everything is blurry, and everything hurts. The light of the room I'm in just barely touches my eyes and I'm out.

I open my eyes all the way this time- an unfamiliar ceiling peers back at me. It's painted a sugary white- and is quite pristine. Where am I? What happened?

I try to sit up-- OH No. Bad idea- sharp pain bursts from my ribs, and my knees smart painfully. So I slouch on the pillow. I turn my head, finding that exercise unpainful at least. Looking around, I see a beautiful set of curtains covering a set of windows- the bottoms are embroidered with flowers and the lace is so fine no machine could have replicated it. An oil lamp sits on the bedside table next to me-

wait.

An oil lamp? Hand-made lace and sheer curtains? Why do my ribs hurt so much-

My phone- which is set on the table- buzzes. 

I was surfing Pinterest, last thing I remember. I saw a stupid looking spell and I tried it. (Because why not? It's like trying to push all the colors through a rainbow pen! InStInCtUaL.) It was just a chant- no boiling pot or any stupid stuff like that.

I remember starting to fall. I remember hitting. Oh god, where was I?! And how am I not dead!? I never thought the bones thing would work- It was a dying person's last attempt at saving-grace logic. 

My breathing accelerates, and I grab my phone. I press the button, and the lock screen shows up. The date and time from where I should be at home still read 12:15 AM. And it was still normal. Minus the 'no Wifi' and 'no internet connection' signs. Great. 

Well, it looks like someone's taken care of me.  I have a white night gown on- huh. And my ribs feel like they've been bandaged. My knees are wrapped, and I look down at my arms. A huge gash has been stitched carefully. 

My best luck wasn't probably with English. Who know where I am- and when. Try spanish first.

"Holá?!" I exclaim loudly. No one comes- I hear no noise.
Shit, when is it? Its gotta be at least  the 18th century- the oil lamp burned kerosene and a strange metal device sat upon another shelf.
"Hello? Is anyone there?!" I straight-up yell. My ribs protest and I cough heavily. Oh my dear god, I survived a three hundred foot fall through a roof.
As soon as my small coughing fit is over I listen again. No one.
So I push through the pain and sit up, looking around at the new surroundings.
I notice a small letter on the table where my phone had been.
It has a pretty envelope, but no stamp. I pull it open.

Dear Miss,
I hope that you wake and refrain from a state of panic- although I am unable to state that you did not give my wife and I quite a fright a fortnight ago. If you do not recall, you seemingly fell from the heavens into our parlor- through the roof.
How you managed to survive is yet a mystery. If you call, we will not answer as we left home for a brief period of time on pressing matters. The doctor suggests not engaging in excessive physical activity any time soon, so please stay where you are. We will be home within two hours.
Please, again, do not panic on the state of your clothes. My wife's maid changed you.
We will visit you soon-
Secretary Alexander Hamilton, Elizabeth Hamilton.

Hamilton.
Like.

THE Alexander Hamilton?!

No way, this has got to be a dream. I can not have actually come back in time.

This.
Is.
A
DREAM!

And- if I pinch myself I should be fine. I'll wake up any minute now in my bed at home in 2021.

Not 1790. Or whatever year I'm dreaming it is. Holy shit this is cool though!

So as long as It's a dream, I should be able to do what I want- the pain is all in my head!

So wearily I stand up.
My bandages ribs protest heavily- the pain is immense. I exhale, and try to stand.

This is all a dream!
This is all a dream!
You can do it!

But the pain gets to me and I fall down on the bed again. The hinges squeak and my back protests.

Ow! SON OF A GUN this dream hurts!

I sit up painfully once more- my eyes set on the chair in the corner.
If I can get to the chair I will be okay and I will be able to sit and process.
My phone is still at 90% so I can probably listen to one of my thinking songs.

As long as no one comes through too fast. And-
Well-
Forget that. They already saw my phone.

I slowly stand up- and my knees buckle. So I slide down from the bed onto the wood floor- promptly crawling towards the chair.
I lift myself into it- and sigh as I relax into the pillow on it. It's nice to be up.

I pull up Amazon music and go to my downloads- my first thinking song is Hometown- 21 Pilots.

Shadow tilts its head, at me.
Spirits in the dark are waiting.
I let the wind go quietly!
I let the wind go, quietly!

Secretary Hamilton will be home soon- then we can probably talk.
How will I get back without another spell?
Is there a time limit on how long Im here?

Where we're from, there's no sun
Our hometown's in the dark.

If there is no limit, is this a dream?
Is there a chance that I'm fine!?

Then I should have fun with this. (As long as I'm not actually screwing up history...)

So- I guess here goes nothing.

I'm about to start Cradles by Sub Urban-

And I hear a door shut and voices below me.

Oh crap.

Part Two coming soon- Angst on its way!