Ham Fam Short Story 2

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A/N: Okay I started doing these "short stories" awhile ago, and kind of forgot it was a thing I ever started. So, I've only ever wrote one, and it was only about 300 words and super lighthearted and cute.

This story will not be like that.

It takes place soon after Philip's death, following my own OC Abigail, who was adopted by the Hamilton family when they found her at their doorstep. She was found as a newborn baby on the same day Philip was born, so Alexander and Eliza had proclaimed her birthday as the same day. Though as the two grew older, their parents noticed how similar they actually were; from personalities to looks. Abigail and Philip looked and acted like twins, and that's how they were raised.

Okay, so that's just some necessary background, any questions you have about Abigail will probably be answered in this story. Hope you enjoy! It's something different that what I usually write.

Soft hands lightly nudged my left shoulder, urging me awake. My peaceful sleep was interrupted, and I was forced to open my eyes groggily. I left out a soft groan, turning over to face my mom's face. "It's time to get up, Abigail."

Without any thought, the words slipped from my lips. "Is Philip up for school? He's always late." He had put me in charge of waking him up once he started at King's. He would always stay up too late with friends or a girl. Even so, he was a hard worker and did fantastic in school. I suppose that's why Mom and Pops allow it.

I watched my mom's expression change from relaxed to one of distress and extreme sadness. Her eyes drifted down and held tears while her forehead creased in stress. "No, honey. He-" Her voice cracked and she had to stop speaking. Many tears rolled down her face and that brought me out of my sleepy state.

Of course Philip wasn't getting up for school. He would never go to school again. He died. He got shot. My eyes immediately started watering, a continuation from the sobbing I had done before sleep blessed my eyes. "O-oh." I cracked, my hands found their way through my messy hair. "R-right."

My mom gave me a soft nod through her tears and exiting exited my bedroom quickly, her head in her hands. It's only been six days without Philip. Hanging on my wardrobe was a beautiful black laced dress, for the funeral this morning. I pushed my thoughts aside and walked towards the dress, feeling the soft fabric. Philip would have told me it was too revealing, but I knew he couldn't deny it was a gorgeous dress. He would've complimented me endlessly, I know it.

I quickly slipped it on over a tight corset and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Mom was just finishing placing plates of eggs and kale on the table. Pops wasn't sat at the head of the table like he used too. Though he hadn't sat there since the affair. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I assumed he was in his office. My youngest siblings sat around the table in silence, no one having anything truly to say. I couldn't blame them. Philip was dead. What else was there to say and do? It had been like this all week, but was surprising was the fact that we still managed to gather every morning for a family breakfast.

The only Hamilton not seated for breakfast was Angie, the second oldest. Angie, Philip and I were quite the trio. I almost smiled thinking about it. Of course when little Angie was younger, Philip and I would pick on her a bit. But that's how siblings go. We grew to love each other and were never apart.  She had been taking his death just as hard as I have, if not harder. She looked up to him greatly. But no one could break the bond between Philip and I. That's why I would truthfully forget I wan't blood related to any of these people everyday. I'll never forget when Mom and Pops told me. I was only 9.

Pushing the thoughts aside, I pulled out a chair and started eating the food put in front of me. I thought only of finishing my meal, and nothing else. It was easier to think of a blank white wall, instead of reminisce of happier times. Because no matter how happy my thoughts tried to be, they would always drift to seeing Philip die before my eyes. I had told him not to accept that duel, I had told him that he would regret it.

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