Fix Me // Jamilton

Chapter 1: Roommates and Panic Attacks

Alexander,
Im so sorry. I know our relationship in high school was far from good. Hell, I nearly killed you when I slammed your head against a locker. I just wanted to apologize for everything and I hope we can maybe become friends?
- Thomas J.

I look at the next note, wondering if this was all just a cruel joke.

Alexander,
Please unlock the door. I don't know what's going on, but are you okay? Please tell me I didn't ruin this before it even started. I'm sorry.
- TJ

TJ, huh? It seemed more and more genuine as I read on. The voices inside my head were still ill convinced though.

Alex,
I hear crying. I'm begging you, open the door. I'm worried about you, more than before now. I know you have depression and self harm. I don't want you to hurt yourself because of me.

He didn't sign this one, but he called me Alex instead of Alexander or Hamilton. He was actually worried about me. I walked silently to the door, listening to see if he was still there. I heard his breathing in the hallway and slowly unlocked the door while pulling it open. He jumps up, but asks gently when he sees my puffy, red eyes:

"Can I come in?"

I nod my head yes, and he slowly comes in my room. He looks at the bed and I walk over, sitting on it. I motion for him to come over, letting him know it was ok for him to sit. He plopped down gently and hesitantly put his hand on my shoulder. I flinch a but but I don't move it off. I scoot closer to him so that he's enveloping me in his arms, my back against his stomach. It's silent for a few moments before he says,

"It was me, wasn't it?"

I nod my head and turn to him , keeping my head down. I realize while looking down that my sleeves are up and you can see my many scars. I also realize I must have added at least 10 during my flashback. The blades were in my bag. They were on the bed at the end now.
Jefferson caught a glimpse of them as I pulled the sleeves down, but stopped me and gently grabbed my arms.

"Hamilton.. I didn't know it was this bad.." he said. I looked at his eyes, and I saw something new in them.. was that? Heartbreak? Genuine concern?

"I still cut. Sometimes if I have a flashback and something is nearby I use it sometimes. It happens too often. I try to stop it but it never works. I relapse a lot. Sorry if I worried you, it's not that big of a deal.." I tell him, red faced.
He looked at me and then pulled me into his arms again.

"Can you give me all your blades? Actually, no, I'm taking all of them. No matter what." He decides. I start to protest and say that they help me cope. I don't know why I'm fighting him, it doesn't feel right. But it does. He removes his arms from around me. He stands up and digs through me bag, easily finding all my blades, as there's a lot of them and not much clothing.

He finds a safe in the living room and locks them all in there, along with a lot of the knives. He keeps the key hidden somewhere when I'm not looking. Now we're in the living room. I crawl back over to him and see that he has a first aid kit, which he must have found while he was looking for a safe or key or sharp objects.

"Wrists." He says, in a demanding yet soothing way. I hold them up and he wraps them in gauze, after wiping them off. I thank him quietly, then start to stand up and go to my room. He grabs my arm and says,

"Hey, wait. Want to go to Starbucks and get coffee or something? It's been a long day. We can get some food there too." I'm taken aback a little bit. Thomas Jefferson, inviting me to go to Starbucks? He has changed. Still at a loss for words, I nod for what seems the thousandth time, and he walks me to the door.

*time skip to in the car, 10 mins from Starbucks*

I pull my phone out and turn it on to see 8 text notifications:
TurtleJohn: Hey man, the squads getting together at me and Pegs dorm, wanna come?
TurtleJohn: oh, and who's your roomie? Hope he/she doesn't suck lol
WomenInTheSequel: you good Alex? John said you aren't texting back, that's not like you
ElizaWatchingItBurn: Alex are you ok? Please tell me you didn't relapse? We love you 💕 join us 2night?
PeglegSchuyler: yo alexxx u good??? Come to our party!!!
FrenchBaguette: mon ami, text if you're ok? I hope all is, how you say, peachy?
HercsHorses: bro we're all sorta freakin out here. Text us!! It's been 3 hours since john texted
MissMariaLewis: hey Alex, were all worried. Please be ok. We've been waiting a long time for you to reply, this isn't like you.

I look at all my concerned friends texts and nearly start to tear up. They do care. I start a group chat with all of them and text out:

A.Ham: I'm so sorry for not texting, phone was off. Some.. dorm stuff happened. Yeah I relapsed I'm sorry but it's all good now. See you in an hour at Pegs and Johns.

- THOMAS' POV -
I got into the dorm before my roommate. My mom had sent me off with some food and money so I wouldn't have to go to the grocery store right away. Of course, there were 10 boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, so I made some. Towards the end of my cooking, I was startled by yelling,

"JEFFERSON? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?" I whip around to see none other than Alexander Hamilton, also known as my greatest regret. I bullied him relentlessly when we were in high school, nearly killing him once and making him pass out almost every day.

Alexander ran off to his room and slammed the door. I heard a click which told me it was locked. I was a bit worried. Did I cause him some kind of psychological damage? I hear a book bag unzip, and a case open. Wait. Hamilton cuts. Oh no. I hear muffled sobbing. This is bad.

I walk quickly to the door, almost running. I knock rapidly, but I know he can't hear me. I sprint to my room next to his, hearing the sobs grow loud and his breathing panicked. I snatch up a pen and paper and start writing. I slide the notes under the door, but stop after 3 when I feel a sharp pain on my arm. Cuts. My soulmate is cutting themselves. I contemplate writing on my arm to tell them to stop, but decide I'll do it after calming Hamilton. I want to do this and get on his good side, to be forgiven.

After maybe ten minutes, I hear shuffling. His crying is still loud and intense, but I see the notes being taken from under the door. I knock hard a few times. He slowly pulls open the door and I jump up, then rethink it.

Thomas, he had a panic attack because of you. He may have hurt himself because of you. Slow down.

"Can I come in?" I ask quietly. He nods and moves so I can come in, I lead him to his bed (no not like that you dirty minded people) and he lets me sit. Slowly, I wrap my arms over him. He flinches, but his tears slow, eventually stopping. After a little while I ask,

"It was me, wasn't it?" My head breaks when he nods his head yes. He looks down and pulls his sleeves a bit, but I catch a glimpse of even more heartbreak: scars, and new cuts. I'm shocked. There are YEARS of pain etched on his arms. I keep myself from crying, just barely.

"Hamilton.. I didn't know it was this bad.."
He looks up and says,

"I still cut. Sometimes if I have a flashback and something is nearby I use it sometimes. It happens too often. I try to stop it but it never works. I relapse a lot. Sorry if I worried you, it's not that big of a deal.." how can he think this is just nothing? I don't understand. I demand him to give me his blades, and when he hesitates and fights me on it, I grab his book bag, digging through and easily finding all of them. He doesn't have much. I feel terrible for him. I feel terrible about all of this. I feel terrible about high school.

I wander through the house, remembering we were told about a safe in each dorm. I set up a passcode and I don't tell Alexander. I take some knives and his blades and lock them up.

"Wrists." I tell him, and he complies. I wrap his cuts in gauze after wiping them up. When I'm done, his eyes flash a thank you and he begins to walk away. I gently grab his arm, not wanting him to leave quite yet. I just have this feeling that he shouldn't walk away. I want him with me. He needs me with him right now.

"Hey, wait. Want to go to Starbucks and get coffee or something? It's been a long day. We can get some food there too." I shock myself at this, but I'm even more shocked when he agrees. We get in my car and start driving. The nearest Starbucks is 15 minutes away. About 5 minutes in, he pulls out a cell phone and I see him catching up on texts and replying. I continue driving, and we sit in silence, thinking about what the hell just happened.
Word Count: 2331 words

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