A/N: Hey guys! I'll be updating Gracie's Luck soon, I've been trying to write chapter 12 for a few days. But, for this story, I got an idea in my head: What if the Andrews were in modern times, and Thomas was still killed? How would he have died? So, this is the product of that thought. I know that I'm not that good with tragic writing, but I try. Enjoy!
Elizabeth opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed in through her window, tinted green by the leaves on the trees. She reached her arms out and stretched, taking pleasure from the tension that racked her body.
The door across the room flew open, and Elizabeth's mother, Helen, stood in the doorway. "Good morning, baby girl! I made pancakes for breakfast!" Helen said cheerily.
Elizabeth groaned. "Hey, Mom. I'll be down in a minute."
Her mother smiled and left, closing the door. Elizabeth pushed the sheets off her body and stood up. She looked down at her gray tank top and purple shorts. In her head, she debated whether or not she should get dressed for breakfast. Oh, whatever, she thought. She ran a brush through her hair before bolting out of her bedroom and down the stairs. The smell of sausage and maple syrup greeted her, and she sighed in contentment,
Helen looked at her daughter as she entered the kitchen. Elizabeth's brown hair bounced in soft waves down her back as she walked. "Oh, honey. I do wish you'd gotten dressed before coming down."
Elizabeth waved her hand. "I was hungry! The first thing on my mind was food."
"Okay, well, eat and then get dressed right away," Helen said.
Elizabeth sat down at her plate, digging into her pancakes. "So," she asked her mother, "any news on Dad?"
Helen shook her head. "I haven't spoken to him in three weeks. It must be bad over there."
Elizabeth's father, Thomas, was currently serving in the military overseas. Elizabeth hadn't seen her father in seven months.
"I hope he comes home soon," Elizabeth said.
Helen looked sadly at her daughter. "Me too."
A knock on the front door interrupted their conversation. Elizabeth stood. "I'll get that!" she said enthusiastically. Then, she remembered her state of dress. "Actually, no I won't."
Helen laughed. "It's okay, have your breakfast," she told Elizabeth.
Helen got up from the table and walked the twenty feet to the front door. Opening it, she saw a man dressed in uniform. "Are you Mrs. Andrews?" he asked gruffly.
Helen panicked a little. "Uh… yes."
The man handed her a letter. "Here. I'm sorry, ma'am."
She took the letter from the man, and he left. Her hand shook and she walked back to the table.
"Mom?" Elizabeth asked. "What is it?"
Helen showed the letter to the girl. They both knew what that letter meant.
"Oh, no." Elizabeth's voice cracked.
Helen sat down and tore open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the paper, confirming what she
already knew. The shock and grief overwhelmed her, leaving her frozen.
"Mom? Mom? Come on, what is it? Is Dad-" Elizabeth began, before Helen cut her off sharply.
"No." She then handed the letter to Elizabeth, who read it carefully. Elizabeth began weeping.
Thomas was gone. Elizabeth's father was no more. He had been killed in action, very suddenly.
Thomas had left his family alone and grieving.
Throughout the rest of the day, Helen and Elizabeth said nothing. They only held each other.
