((SOME NOTES BEFORE YOU READ:
This is a tribute to Aaron Burr on his birthday, which is February 6th, which is today. This is set in modern times since the fictionalized modern setting is more flexible than in actual history, since Theodosia JR. actual died before her father. This does deal with death and extreme depression/greif, so you have been warned. You can also consider this a little bit of a vent chapter on my part, since I'm sort of struggling in real life at the moment. Anyway, most of the stuff in this I is supported by Wikipedia. Look up "Theodosia Burr" and you'll see what I mean.
Anyway, Hamilton fans, enjoy! And happy 181st birthday, vice president Aaron Burr!))
Theodosia got that feeling again. A feeling that would never go away.
Even as she spent the day, planning and rehearsing her plans for a dramatically appropriate pirate party for a small group of eight-year olds, that feeling still nagged her; scratching the very back of her neck that she couldn't seem to reach.
Theodosia played with a golden necklace around her neck. As a party-planner in the ever busy New Jersey, she knew she couldn't visit him, not now especially. She couldn't risk losing this job in this age's competitive market. Well, it wasn't competitive per say... it was actually sorta slow. Which was exactly the problem.
Somehow, this kid's birthday was more real than this forgien, resurrected icth.
So, she waited on and on for the child's party to begin, and the icth swelled. She pushed it away with a twist of guilt- she shouldn't forget him - but she had no choice. Why this matter was bothering her today, she wasn't sure.
Then, she did do the unthinkable. She did forget about the itch. It lost it's allure and sway as the day wore and crawled on it's last leg, the issue too untouchable and fragile to consider. When it did tickle the edge of her mind, she shoved it away instinctively, knowing it would just crumble in her shaking hands.
Only, the longing returned, when she was piled into her car and cruising down a unfamiliar street. Her phone buzzed inches from her hand. Clicking involuntarily, she offered a breif glance to the screen:
JOSEPH
"Hey there." He answered, his words pouring onto her, milky sweet. She double-checked to make speaker was on. "How's the work going?"
"Joseph..." Theodosia cautioned, a giggle rising in her throat.
"Alright, alright; but I mean it. How are you doing, Theo?" He inquired before adding a amused but not unkind pause.
Theodosia kept her eyes on the road and also kept her reply simple. "I'm fine."
"You sure?" A long heart-beat passed. Theodosia noted his concern with some of her own. Her digits somehow found her chain necklace and started to fiddle with it again.
"Did something happen...?" She let the question hang in the air like a cocked gun.
"Huh? No. I don't think so." Joseph's sigh came short and hurried. "Tell me how that kid's party went."
"Joseph Alston. I know you don't care about my line of work. I mean, your always stuck in South Carolina with your career-" She uttered firmly and carefully.
Joseph coughed. "Okay. I get it. I'm sorry, Theo. I just... thought you knew." Theodosia got the distinct impression that he was lying on the last part. She slowed her car down as the light switched to red.
"It's just that... Theo." She could practically hear the crinkle of his smile. "I'm always here for you, alright?"
"Just tell me." Her eyes now didn't leave the phone- determined and scanning, as if it would bring answers.
Joseph muttered another "sorry" before contuining, "Today's your father's special day. His birthday."
Theodosia halted at the wheel. The icth returned at all once, like she was being dumped in a ice-cold bucket of water. Her hand hovered over the screen, trembling slightly.
"I'll call you back." Her voice was just as numb.
He faultered audibly. "Uh, okay-"
She missed the button at first, just turning off speaker-mode. However, she could still here him saying stuff like "I'm here for you." and "do you want to talk about this?" Before she could shut him completely off, he said;
"Hey, do you want me to take you to the cemetery? We can, uh, visit him-"
Theodosia was already zooming down the road before the light switched back to green.
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Aaron Burr, died at the crisp age of 56, but everyone already knew he was dead long before then.
Theodosia never forgotten three months before his death. He was reduced to the life of a zombie, a pale, shuffling mess. Theodosia desperately cared for him, sneaked him money, and always slept next to him. His arms would wrap around her, cold and stiff, and he would start to whisper.
The whispers mourned for Theodosia's mother. The whispers painted the picture of his past, filled with violence and emotional turmoil. He chatted about his friends, with a sly smirk, saying that they never became "the right crowd". He licked his lips when he shared his greatest wishes, and laughed about how stupid they were. Luckily, he allowed her to talk as well, but he never seemed to retain what she said.
He grew worse. And worse. His health declined. His mental health was in shambles. Theodosia was advised to purchase a home away from his self-destructive nature. Now, he was just waiting for the gullotine to come down.
He couldn't hear her anymore. All he spoke of, when he spoke at all, was Hamilton. Theodosia still snuggled onto his rigid body at night, even when in murmured in the most dismal of tone's;
"I killed him. Oh God, I killed him."
The court case as just a blurr to Theodosia. It was like the white, jagged lines of static on a television until the show clicked back on. Like, oh whoa, what happened? And then, oh; now my dad's in jail.
Theodosia concluded on the day of his funeral that sometimes, things never go away. No matter how hard you push them into submission.
That's what Theodosia remembered when she approached his grave.
She messed with her flaxen-colred pedant once more. It was choking her, it must be. She attempted to unclip it, but her digits just couldn't find a hold on beads.
Theodosia kneeled before the soild piece of rock. The words upon it's surface were faint and plain, almost like an afterthought. She placed her palm on the cool stone.
I made the same mistake, she despaired. She leaned foward and allowed her forehead to touch it's slick surface.
She remained there for a while. Her chest became hollow, her breathing shallow, with every limb frozen in the unmeasurable rush of time.
You told me... Theodosia couldn't muster the courage to say it out loud.
You told me that I would blow us all away. But all I did... was plan stupid parties. Nothing useful to society.
Thanks a lot, dad.
But she couldn't muster the effort to be angry at him either.
The itch reached her hand, which seemed to be falling asleep. She curled into a fist absent-mindedly, memories returning to her in a sluggish wave, as if reluctant to show themselves.
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"Dear Theodosia." He breathed one dark night, bright and as happy as can be, with a one of those old-timey quills in his grasp.
She watched him in the doorway, hiding her laughter as he announced each word he was writing on the paper.
"I hope you're doing well. I've being doing good, thanks for asking in your last answer." Theodosia gasped, remembering in a flash she forgot that splendid little detail.
Aaron chuckled out loud in his passive, but snarky way. "In any case, I must question the last part of your letter." He straightened, placing a puzzled expression on his face. "For example, what does "deilous" mean? Also, I believe you've forgotten commas. Again." He drawled.
Theodosia charged into the room, then, for she performed this act every night he wrote back to her. She attacked him in his chair, and he burst out, laughing with her...
Theodosia transported back to reality in a flash, blinking away tears.
It's my dad's birthday.
She knew the gift she had to give to him.
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Dear Aaron Burr,
How are you doing? I hope your doing well, being dead. Wherever you are.
I just want to say... I'm glad you waited. I'm glad you stayed with me when mom died. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you did.
Do you remember what we did together? Write stories and letters, whisper French to each other at bedtime, struggle through math, and even play pirate together? You even tried to construct a wooden sail-boat; but it wasn't that sound, was it, dad?
I still have that necklace. It's how I remember you. And by remembering you, I mean remembering how you used to be. Before the duel with Hamilton. Before going to jail; everything. How patient you were. How nice you were. How funny you were. The stories you told about history... how the wanted to be apart of that. It really inspired me when I was young.
Now, I'm 29- no longer a pirate or a little girl. I'm a party planner. Not really anything that blows out of the water, but still. It's my occupation.
Your going to have to tell me if I spelled that right.
In any case... I just want to say...
That it will happen eventually. I'll be something so huge that it will blow the socks of everyone in this country. I'll even blow Hamilton's socks off, if they even bury you guys with socks.
Thank you for you time if you read this. Even if you never made history, your legacy is still here.
Love, Theodosia Burr
Theodosia wasn't sure if it even will get to him. After she was picked up by Joseph, she left it, alone, at his grave. She didn't return for a few months, afraid the next time came, she would completely lose it.
When she did approach the towering block of stone, though, the letter appeared to be missing.
Theodosia played with her locket. Maybe it was blown away in the wind. It was fairly chilly today. Still...
Theodosia had that odd feeling again. The kind of feeling that would never go away.