Another year of celebration had arrived. People lined the streets of their towns, cheering and clapping, creating a stir of both excitement and trouble. Only a few years before, men from all parts of the original colonies had declared independence from their rivals across the sea.

The country was bursting at the seams, proudly waving flags and dancing. At the strike of midnight, preparations had begun, just like they had ever year before. It was the most anticipated day of the year for them, so they wanted everything to be just right.

All the while the celebrations continued, the remaining founders of the nation were listening from their windows. Cannons in the distant, cheering, it was all real.

One document they had all come together to sign was making its own history, just like every year before.

While many of them had aged, less agile than they were before, one of the men in particular found himself lying on his deathbed.

Eyes watering, lips dry from the heat, Jefferson felt himself slipping away. He recalled asking his doctor a short while ago if it was the fourth, a day he knew well. The doctor had replied and he had rested peacefully for only a while longer. He remembered the man saying he was running of time, so rest was all good.

Time? The old man laughed. All his life he had been running away from time. He knew his time was slowly running out, it had been, since the start of his life. So many risks had been taken, without care, and now he finally understood what the end of the road felt like.

Despite that, the man continued to fight against the elements of time. Eighty years he has thrived from his mistakes and learned from them. So much had been taught, so much he already forget.

Time was indeed running out.

The state of health the man was in made him feel disgusted. Infections, mess, and lies all wrapped up into his body and made the ending even more painful. Thomas stared up at the ceiling above his bed, grimacing at the twisting pain in his abdomen.

A hand brushed over his forehead, checking for the temperature. The strength to look over and see who it was became too great, so he only groaned in disgust and continued to think.

Had life been worthwhile?

Jefferson knew how foolish of a question he had put upon himself. But that didn't stop him from finding the answer. Slaves, mistress, arguments, shutting himself out, writing for hours on end, the list of negative purposes went on. A single tear dropped down the side of his cheek.

Throat tightening up, he pondered for a moment longer. Somehow, through all his downfalls, he had managed to rise.

Maybe he had gone too far on the northerner who shouted at him during the cabinets. But as he looked back, that was one thing he let slide past. Maybe, but not possible.

Even for his opponent, who had been dead for twenty two years, he knew they'd agree on one thing. That would be along the lines of them not getting along at all.

Thomas recalled ignoring the northerner's comments quite often, almost enough to not notice the skill in debate he possessed. Battling at each other all day, neither one of them stopped and realized the similarities they held.

Chuckling again, he shifted underneath the covers of his bed. There had been so much else accomplished in his lifetime. Old age and health wouldn't hold him back from reliving every moment.

In his time being alive, he had met many people and befriended almost half of them. He had just sent one last letter to his friend shortly before realizing how close to the end it was. It was unlikely there would be a reply.

A sudden need, for release from the world covered him, before he could even protest for one last look around. But to his shock, he only fell into a short slumber. Once awaken from the unusual sleep, he tried to compute his surroundings again.

Even though it seemed well at first, Thomas was quick to realize how weak he had grown in that time cut off from the lively spirit of the world.

Although the bed wasn't faced towards the window, Jefferson could clearly see in the reflection his mirror the visions of people parading and celebrating.

It came to him that he had been the one to ignite that celebration.

He had written documents, letters, things that would never be forgotten. He helped declare independence by writing it down. He continued to fight for liberty in the most civil way anyone could have.

He had lived.

Relief flooded the old man's heart. Something good had come out of his final hours. He realized just how much of an influence and importance he had been to the country. That was the only thing he wanted to know before leaving the country behind.

Coughing suddenly, something lurched inside his heart. The time had come. No longer was time running out, it was stopping. Thomas could feel himself weakening at the thought of dying.

It was just on the horizon and for the first time in his years of waiting, he wasn't prepared to face it. The man who had run until the end was holding back on his last breaths.

"I resign my spirit to God, my daughter to my country," he mumbled through dry lips, eyes welling up as he could see his physician and others look at him from the side. He didn't know when they had entered the room, but he was thankful to have them there.

Everything all at once became foggy and dark, creeping in on the edges of his eyes. Thomas gripped his sheets, exasperated, begging for some release. His hands weakly clung to the sheets, only a few moments later easing the pressure on the fabric.

Surrounded by people he knew, the man let out one last breath. At the exhale, his body gently pressed back against the bed in a lifeless way. Face gone pale from the exhaustion of his health, and the thoughts that haunted him, Jefferson's eyes stayed directly fixated on the ceiling.

His eyes led the way to a new beginning. There would be a better world. Even while his life had ended, the life awaiting him up above was only just beginning.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .
A/N: While today is the day independence was declared, it was also the fateful day for Thomas Jefferson in 1826. He died only a few hours before his friend, John Adams. I couldn't go without writing specifically something for today, so therefore this was made!