Charles Lee's P.O.V

John Laurens was pissing me the fuck off. I say the truth about George Washington and he is all up on my ass! Challenging me to a duel! Pathetic. Waste of space, really. I can't see how Hamilton looks up to this man. Laurens is a piece of shit. I'll win this duel. I'm sure of it.

I hike to the dueling grounds, Burr and some doctor I don't even know at my side. On the other side of the field I see Laurens, Hamilton basically clinging onto him. He huffed and rolled my eyes, sending Burr off to 'compromise' with Hamilton. But I know all too well, Hamilton will not let his guard down so easily. When he wants something, he fights for it. Laurens should be looking up to Hamilton, not the other way around! Oh well... Too late now.

I could see Burr walking back towards me, a straight look on his face. He patted my shoulder as he passed. "Good luck." he muttered. I felt rage boil inside me. So that's how they wanted to play huh?! Then they better be prepared for another player.

I cocked my gun, never taking my eyes off Laurens. He looked so pleased... So satisfied. As he had already won.

We walked towards each other until our noses nearly touched.

Then we turned around and stepped to the seconds.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ,6 ,7 ,8 ,9, 10 paces FIRE!

I whirled around, ready to fire my gun....

Pain.

Pain unlike I have ever felt. Everything went still. Frozen as if life was letting me savor my last few moments on Earth. I stared at Laurens, shock clouding my mind. I lost.... My eyes traveled down my own body. I was bleeding from right beneath my ribcage.

My entire life flashed before my eyes. I was a Brutish General, but I left Britain and turned to the colonies. I saw myself being made General by George Washington. I saw the rage burning off of Hamilton. I saw myself being a cowardly bitch during the Battle of Monmouth.
For a split second, I felt pity. Not on myself, no, but pity on Hamilton. Why? I don't fucking know! He has everything! A beautiful wife, best friends... Things I wish I had when I had to chance. Okay, maybe more envy than pity. But there was one thing he didn't have.
A break.
Poor man worked himself to the core. As General, I really didn't do much. So much freetime to do whatever the hell I wanted.
But then I talk shit about the president and I get myself into this mess. I'm done. Gone. No one will remember me. I screwed it all up.

Suddenly I could hear and see what was really going on around me. Time continued. I felt the bullet enter my side, causing me to fall backwards. I felt arms wrap around me. Burr's arms. I felt safe for a moment. But only for a moment. The world around me was going fuzzy. I could hear Laurens and Hamilton cheering. George Washington yelling at them. Then he approached me. I couldn't hear him, but he saluted me. So I weakly saluted him back before letting my arm fall.

I was now being carried away. I could feel the world around me shifting like the waves in the sea. I finally closed my eyes, letting the sound of yelling and rushed footsteps put me to sleep.

I never woke back up.