The Armor (Prince Harry fanfic #1)

Chapter Twenty

"I think we shall start at the beginning of the day," Lucy concluded, eyes wandering over to him for approval. She didn't need it but he was listening. It was best to get the questions out now. "Yes?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, choking on his word, unable to breathe with his spinning thoughts.

Only shaking her head slightly, the truth went: Lucy arrived early at school that morning, on November twelfth, while the snow started to flutter down. It wasn't cold enough yet for the snow to stick to the ground but it was surely getting there. She decided in the morning to wear her boots with the heels, the ones that clicked against the floor, before the snow really came and made everything icy. Lucy arrived early so that she would be able to work more upon the school's literature magazine, focusing on the authors' names, which she worked on before class began. She checked in with her parents. Her mom had brought lunch in for her. Lucy saw Andy briefly through the windows that led into the gym, working on shooting the ball. This was his final year of high school, and he wanted a scholarship.

The first period of her day was math, where she drew lines of slope across her graphs, connecting the dots. The second period of her day was world history, where they were currently working on the Dark Ages. Her teacher was so excited for the Renaissance that he would've had no problem skipping over the Dark Ages. They were to start the Renaissance the next day, rebirth. The third period of her day was English, and she continued to work on her paper about the European Union. During the class period, Lucy excused herself to go the restroom. While she was walking back from class, at ten:thirty-two in the morning, the first gunshot rang out.

Lucy was paralyzed in her steps, stopping to wonder what the sound was. Maybe, she decided, it was a teacher who played the movie too loud in a classroom. Yes, she decided. The school bell rang, allowing people to move around, allowing the students to go to their next class. Voices echoed down the hallway. She put one foot forward, and then many gunshots rang out. The world trembled and Lucy stopped in place. She couldn't count how many rang out, the sound overlapped. The sound was close but it reached to somewhere off in the distance. She realized that she must be scared, but her heartbeat was strong and her head hurt from the pain of blood rushing. Adrenaline pushed through her. She waited.

It was funny, Lucy noticed, she had been trained year after year of her schooling how to handle a gunman in the school. She was supposed to hide. But she had only been trained if she was within the classroom: the teacher was to lock the door and turn off the lights, while the students hid, usually stacking the desks on top of another; the desks were so good that they could be used for shields. But she was out of class now, all alone, with no voices around. She was supposed to run and hide, but when she looked around, she had nowhere to go. She couldn't go back to the restroom, hide in their with the door locked, because she would be going back to the gunman. But her parents were that way, so was her brother. Her feet wouldn't allow her to go back. There were only locker bays around her, and she wouldn't be able to hide well there.

The screams from her peers shook Lucy awake. Their voices, neither male or female, bounced off the walls, smacking her in the face. The mixture of voices yelled for help if they weren't killed instantly. Sobs flowed down the hallway. Blood was coming. Her feet clamored against the ground as she ducked behind the bay of lockers, pulling her body into her, pressing her knees to her chest. Her arms curled around her legs. Her chin rested on her knees. Gunshots rang out, closer.

In her pocket, Lucy's phone vibrated, calling for her attention. She knew someone was trying to contact her, whether her brother or her parents. She knew she shouldn't pick it up in case someone heard her, in case the gunman heard her. But what if it was her parents? She had to tell them she was okay. Then the thought hit her, the police were coming. Someone called the police, but what if they didn't? She needed to call them; they needed to help her. Carefully, Lucy slid her phone out of her pocket and saw who was calling her: Jake. She accepted the call, pressing it to her ear.