Hamilton One Shots

{JeffMads} Gentle Words (82)

- James Madison's P.O.V. -
- Modern -

Gentle patters echoed on the rooftop, my eyes landing on the ceiling of my old home. The bed that laid under me was my childhood bedroom's bed, untouched from when I was here last for Christmas. My mom had kept it tidy for me, not touching anything other than to keep it clean and make sure everything was always washed. She always loved keeping things the same, never changing much of the decor without my dad's approval. For example, when they needed a new couch, they practically collected the entire family and we all went shopping for the new couch.

I sat up and rubbed my tear-stained face, trying to rid of the sadness that kept me in the bed. I slipped from under the covers, standing and stretching. I ignored the itchiness of my eyes, traveling to the bathroom and brushing my teeth. I stayed in my pajamas, traveling downstairs to where my younger brother, William, was flipping pancakes. My sister, Sarah, was sitting at the table with her head in her hands, shaking shoulders indicating her cries continued from the night before. My other siblings were buried in the ground, the funeral for my mother being today along with the burial.

I placed a gentle on my sister's shoulder, her eyes meeting mine. She spun in her chair after catching my eyes, hugging my waist and buried her head into my chest. I pressed a gentle hand to her back, rubbing it softly to comfort her. I looked over at my brother as he flipped another pancake, sniffling as he did. I carefully peeled from my sister, letting her spin back to sit normally. I walked over to my brother, pressing a hand to his shoulder before taking over the cooking, letting him go sit down.

I flipped a pancake as another set of footsteps entered the room, my eyes meeting my non-blood-cousin, Hercules Mulligan. He and his family was close with mine, always visiting and calling all of us cousins. We thought of him as family, so he was here for moral support. He smiled weakly at me, letting me do the same back. He sat down beside Sarah, rubbing her back softly as he did so. I flipped the last pancake onto a plate, bringing it to the table where all my family sat. I placed it down before grabbing more plates and silverware. I placed down all the necessities before sitting myself. I forced my siblings to grab food, grabbing some myself before Hercules grabbed some for himself.

After eating, we gathered all the plates and Sarah took the dishes (much to the protest of all of us). We all readied for the funeral; I slipped on black pants, the same I always wore for every funeral I've been to. I slipped on a black button-up, black shoes placed on my feet with grey socks. I didn't mess with my hair that was slicked with water from the shower I took. I ignored the water that dripped from my hair, staring at myself in the mirror. I wrapped my arms around myself, closing my eyes and imagining the person I love wrapping their own arms around mine, pulling me to his chest for comfort.

"James, it's time to go," I heard a call, breaking me from my imagination. With one last glance at the mirror, I slipped my wallet in my pocket along with my phone. I traveled to where Sarah called, Hercules and William standing there in all black with my sister, also in a black outfit. I nodded to them, traveling to the car Hercules was going to drive us in. I sat in the back with my brother, Sarah taking passenger and Hercules driving. After securing the buckles, we traveled to where we were meeting with friends of our mother.

He parked the car in the parking lot. We all tore out of the vehicle, feeling the weight of this funeral resting on our shoulders. I slumped slightly forward, wanting to run back to the bed I was laying in this morning. Gently, William pressed a hand on my back and helped me grow the confidence to follow them into the funeral home. We noticed mom's friend, Janette, standing at the door. When she saw us, pity was gathered in her eyes and it made me want to leave instantly.