A Country Divided : Through Blood United

The Assassination of Abraham Lincoln: Getting Ready

My two friends laughed along with me for what seemed like eternities. Once the three of us became serious again, I folded my arms and squinted in the President's direction; I could just sense that Lincoln was hiding something from Johnathan and I.

"Is there any other reason why you want to go to the theater?" I asked, pressing Abraham for any possible answers.

All of a sudden, Lincoln stood up and sighed, his expression turning from a happy one to one of fear and solemn.

"Actually, I do have another reason why I want to go see a play as soon as possible," He said, but it came out as barely a whisper. "I can only tell you two since I trust you both."

Johnathan and I both leaned more forward in our seats, our ears ready to take in a secret from Abraham Lincoln. I smiled, ready for the incoming rant from the President.

"Okay," he began. "For the past couple of days, I had these weird, really realistic dreams, and they all seemed so real."

"But, that has nothing to do with why you want to go to the theater," Johnathan huffed impatiently, still thinking that he was waiting for the real reason why Lincoln wanted to go to the theater.

"Just wait," Abraham Lincoln practically snapped at Johnathan, making Johnathan immediately silence in response. "I will get there."

He sighed to cool his temper and continued. "When I had the dreams, I had this little feeling in the back of my head. Like they were a foreshadow of something that was going to happen in the future."

"What were those dreams about?" I asked, my head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Well," Lincoln began, "One of the dreams was a small one. It was on a ship returning to a port faster than usual, and I'm sure why, but I got this weird feeling that the dream meant that this war was going to end."

My eyes widened in surprise. "...And the war ended on the ninth." My mind was brought back to the time when Johnathan told me about his dream about me killing myself, and I decided to push the thought of it becoming a reality in the back of my mind.

"That's correct," Lincoln nodded and continued his rant. "And I had another dream, too, about a day later. In the dream, I went to the restroom to wash my hands and face. When I looked in the mirrors, I noticed that my reflection on the right mirror was faded and a bit blurry even though my reflection on the left was perfectly fine."

Lincoln sighed and sat back down on the couch, trying to relax. "And I got the feeling that I was going to live through my first term as President-"

"Which you already did," Johnathan interrupted the President with a somewhat happy tone in his voice

Lincoln chuckled. "Yes, that's correct. But the blurry image of me on the right made me predict that I might not make it through my second term as President."

I gasped in surprise, my hand instinctively covering my mouth. "But that can't be true! Everyone loves you, including the people in the South-"

Abraham held up his hand in front of my face, signaling for me to quiet down. I did just that and leaned back on the couch in embarrassment from my sudden outburst.

"Yeah, I had that exact thought," Lincoln said calmly. "And in the most recent dream I had, I remember that I was standing in one of the rooms in the White House, and an open casket was displayed in the room with a crowd of people around the casket, almost admiring the corpse.

"I calmly walked over to the guard by the casket and asked who was in the casket." Lincoln paused and inhaled deeply, his expression still calm and gentle. "The guard told me that the man in the casket was the President."