The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Ten

The first step had been to get here. The second step had been for her not to leave. The third step had been for her to stand in the building again. Lucy would go to the memorial, pay her respects. In her purse were three white roses and she would lay them down on ground where her family's names were raised. There were stone benches outside meant for sitting, carved out of same black stone of the memorial, ten in all. There were people she would meet today. There were people she would talk to. There were people meet and she would swallow whatever problem she had with them and move on. This was what she did.

Sydney directed Lucy to a side of the massive commons area where fifty-six tables laid out in white clothe with each table being decorated like the person's personality for whoever died. Laid out on the tables were favorite hobbies, sports and books, whatever made the person human, along with their school picture. Small photos of the person were laid out too, making it personal. If you had something to leave with with the table, you put it on the seats that surrounded it. Lucy noticed her family's easy.

"There will be a museum," Sydney said, "in this town, up the road. Land was donated to us, like some of the supplies and we finally have enough to build it. Your grandfather said we could have the stuff he brought from the house but we wanted to ask you first."

They moved over to the round tables, and her eyes wandered over the things. "No. Take them." Lucy turned to other tables. "And what else will you put in the museum?"

"Well, we know fifty-six rosebushes will be planted, along with over one hundred trees for every person shot." Lucy's eyes went over to Sydney, and she continued, "For every bullet shot, a cattail will be planted."

"That's going to cost a lot of money."

"Cattails mean peace, and they're donated." Sydney looked around the room and grew protective of her old friend. Eyes lied on Lucy, but she didn't seem to notice. "There will be memories of the people who died and the ones who survived."

Lucy questioned. "You mean like what we do with our lives?"

"Who you marry? If you have children? What your job is?" Sydney stepped forward. "We're humans, and they don't realize that." Her eyes glanced over to the people who watched but Lucy already knew. "They don't see us as humans, just a story. That's all they'll ever be. But let us show them who we are, who we can be."

Lucy smiled to herself. "So my big achievements in my life will be next to a display case of me?"

"Yes."

"So who I marry?"

"I hope you accomplish more than that," Sydney said, and Lucy shot her glare. "Sorry, but he's got to be someone really important if he's an achievement."

"You have no idea." Lucy rolled her eyes. "What else will go in my display, Syd?"

"Well, your name, birth and such, when you die," she listed. "It'll say where you were in the school during the shooting, how many times you were shot and how you took down the gunman." Lucy was about to argue against that but Sydney continued, "For now, it'll list your achievements with the refugee crisis and your help for commonsense gun control within the U.S. Also, you took down a gunman on a train."

"That was long ago."

"Lucille, people know who you are. I think half of the news networks showed up today in case you showed up."

"Oh, the surprises you'll get, Syd."

"About this guy who you mentioned earlier?"

"I don't need a man to complete me," Lucy snapped.

"God knows that." Sydney kept her playful tone. Her short legs crossed over to Lucy. "Whoever he is, he must be something special if you just said something openly."

"I didn't give you any details."

"You admitted there was a guy, which it isn't easy to get answers out of you, Lucille. You must really like him... or love him."

Lucy rolled her eyes and walked away. Sydney knew she was right and followed her old friend as they joined the rest of the world. The news networks were allowed into the school as long as they were respectful and didn't make much noise. They did so, just walking around the tables and talking shots of them. The cameras would swing around the commons and land on Lucy. Sydney moved her off to the side.

Throughout the large commons, Lucy saw old people but none of them came up and said anything. Both women knew it was only a matter of time. Lucy's old life stared straight her and she had no choice but to live it. Her old teachers stood around and so did some of her old classmates. All her old classmates looked old, weathered and beaten, as if the last five years hadn't been their friends. The teachers looked the same. Lucy knew she looked older than she was, but was it by that much? Had their lives been cut short by this idiocy?

"Lucille," Sydney said, "I have to ask you something quick."

Lucy didn't give a retort but nodded.

"Have you seen our old classmate since you've been back?"

Sydney referred to the classmate who shot up the school, and then answer was no. "Why?"

"Rumors. He wanted to talk to you."

"Like hell that would happen."

Their old classmate would spend the rest of his miserable life behind bars, in solitary confinement. He could talk to himself. He could be mean to himself. No one felt bad for him. However, his groupies managed to show up today.

Sydney watched the crowd and then gave Lucy a look. "Maybe you should see the memorial outside."

"Is it time?"

"Some news stations are in here but most are outside." Lucy nodded and Sydney commented, "It's a good thing you don't have a problem being used."

"Let the idiots yell at each other. Perhaps for one second they'll shut up." Lucy received her coat again and threw it around her shoulders. She looked out the doors.

Lucy knew what was coming next, because the media would be out there. Eyes would be on her. She had rehearsed it in her head. Lucy hadn't wanted to come to this thing but everything was a show. She learned it well from Harry. Everyone was going to watch so you better not fall. Lucy wished to not fall now. She exited the school.