Prompt: "Something to do with disability [or] disease. Whether it be blindness, deafness, loss of limb, inability to talk, cancer, really anything. It could be a physical or mental or emotional."

Alexander's POV:

Chick-a-plao.

Even before the bullet's earsplitting shot ricocheted through my chest, I'd known this was the end. In books, one always hears about one's "life flashing before one's eyes" and all that nonsense. I'd dismissed it as author's license, and continued with my heroic fantasies. I always imagine myself being gunned down and giving one last battle cry as I wave the American flag for the last time. I have given myself innumerable endings to my story, all involving my precious, goddamn martyred soul. I guess my aspirations came true, in a way: I'm dying as I defend my honor and sacrifice. I couldn't shoot Burr. I could shoot a million redcoats, but Burr was my friend. Is my friend.

The bullet rips into my side in a passionate display of red.

Somehow, none of my memories of Death manage to come close to what I'm feeling now. I'm vaguely aware of my body being lain in a boat; I can smell the air of the Hudson. The strangest thing is the acceptance: I tell myself, I need more time, just give me more time! I can accomplish greater things! Except I don't want more time. I'm so tired, and I want to see John Laurens. I want to see my son, I want to see my mother. I haven't seen her in a long time. I can't wait to see Washington. Hell, I even want to see Charles Lee. So, coming back to what I was thinking in the first place, the books aren't necessarily wrong, but they aren't exactly correct, either.

The doctor reaffirms my suspicions: "He's not going to make it." Frankly, I don't care.

I can feel myself talking, but I don't know what I'm saying. My other thoughts drift away as Eliza and Angelica appear before me. Angelica is crying, but Eliza just stares at me, helpless. I suddenly feel a pain, not just from the bullet. I can't believe I would just leave her like this. Suddenly, I want to stay alive. Reality hits me harder than the bullet, and an excruciating feeling tears through me as I finally snap out of my accepting daze. I scream in frustration and pain, and I loose the blissful numbness I'd felt only seconds before. Tears run down my face, but I keep talking. I tell Eliza how much she means to me, I tell her to take her time. She just stares. I understand. Some things hurt too much for tears.

Angelica sobs away, remarking sadly about how brave Eliza is. The last thing I see is my wife. Everything is black, but I know I am not gone yet.

I'm blind. I can't see anything, but I still feel the blood trickling down my sides, and I still hear the voices, proclaiming my death. My tongue swells; I can't speak. But the voices ring in my head, and as I sink deeper into the abyss, the numbness returns. Eliza whispers, "Goodbye, Alexander."

Then, John Laurens takes my hand, and we walk toward the light.