Thomas Pov
After Hamilton and crew came by I jumped on my bed and fell asleep. I woke up and stared cooking breakfast when I noticed a notebook that wasn't mine. I opened it and read the first page 'I don't think I can go on like this any longer. Would it be easier to just end it all? The cutting obviously has not worked. Maybe I could follow pursuit of my dearest cousin.' I skimmed most of the pages when I saw my own name in the journal. 'Alrighty. So there's an asshole right? There's always an asshole. Anyways he's named Thomas Jefferson. He has no idea what I'm am struggling through yet he continues to murder me from the inside, out...like I'm not doing that myself. What did I ever do to him? I've been nice to him. Or at least tried to. All my questions all lead back to the simpleton question of why?' I closed it and thought for a second. My thoughts were interrupted by a door opening. I saw Alexander who came out of a room. He saw me and his eyes filled with fear. He backed up slowly and went back into his room. Was that Alexander's journal? Wait he cuts? What is he struggling through? Why do I have the sudden urge to help him? What did he ever do to me? I sighed and went to my room. My mind filled with questions one after another. I don't like this. I don't like this whole questioning everything. I hate this new feeling of....regret.