The Sword (Prince Harry fanfic #3)

Chapter Thirteen

It was almost two in the morning by the time camp was packed up for the night at the old high school. The media finished backing up and hauled their stuff off the property, disappearing into the night. Lucy had been waiting since midnight, just around the corner, with her car in park and the lights turned off. Knowing she needed closure, she came back here.

If Lucy didn't have closure, there was no way that she would be able to move on with her life, and that was what she wanted. She couldn't do it with this staring her in the face. Lucy wanted a life with Harry, and this was what held her back.

She waited another two minutes before she got out of the car and headed over to the memorial sight.

In the dark of early morning, it was hard to imagine that this place was lived in. The roads were slick with sleet and the sky was covered in dark clouds. The stars had come and gone long ago. The grass had clumps of browning snow. Salt tried to cover the road for early drivers of the day. On the grounds of the school, high school wouldn't resume until next week and more visitors were expected today. Lucy wasn't sure if she would come back.

The black stones raised into the sky with the white lettering becoming more apparent in the heavy lights. The lights were stationed at the bottom, going up in columns that overlapped. Every name was illuminated, as if to never be forgotten. Each of these humans was important, and each of these humans would've slowly been forgotten.

Her hand outstretched to the stone and she met the slick and cold thing. It was hard to understand what was right in front of her, and it was the end. This was the end of the life she had forever known. With paparazzi finding out who she was, this was the end. Soon, she couldn't ever go back. Looking at this, she didn't want to go back. Lucy knew the girl she used to be, and she didn't like it. Who she became was more important.

Lucy's fingers traced along the ridges of her loved ones' names as she spelled them in her head, sounding out the name carefully. It was hard for her after five years to remember some of the features of her family. She wished to remember Andy, but the thing was, she had a hard time. The pain hadn't faded, but she had managed to forget. It was a lovely thing. Andy was like Jake, how it was just slowly forgotten. She would remember the love and trials between a brother and a sister, but his voice never called to her. She didn't hear; she didn't remember it. He was just another person.

She moved into her father's name, and she did have many memories of him. He would push her on the swings and he taught her how to drive. He would help her with homework and they would work together on projects around the house. Lucy was always his little girl, but it was different now. Lucy wasn't little. Lucy was tall. Lucy wasn't tall. Lucy was a woman. 

Then came her mother, kind woman with a quick tongue, who quoted Shakespeare like word of God. Her mother worked harder than anyone she ever knew. Her mother had a new project. Her mother loved to paint. Lucy had no idea where the paintings had gone, but she assumed some would be in the museum. Perhaps that was where they were meant to be, finally in a museum. But like Jake, Andy and her father, Lucy had a hard time remembering her mother. All Lucy wanted was to remember her mother's voice and how a story was read to Lucy as a little girl. But she couldn't. The voices had faded.

In many ways, Harry done that. Harry replaced those voices. Those voices were going to fade anyway. Those voices were beautiful until she heard screaming in the night. Those voices were melodies until they became haunting. Harry had chased away those screams and those fears, and those voices. She wouldn't trade Harry for those voices. She would have him to the end of her days before ever wanting those voices again. It was by far the most kind thing he had ever done, and he never realized it. Harry wanted to keep her safe but he kept her sane.

Lucy still touched the chilled stone, and her eyes followed the names. Jake sat there, glistening in the rain. In truth, she never loved him. She was her first, and they had dated off and on. It was never supposed to last between them. They were both going to go different colleges and have different lives. Jake was a friend and really no more.

Her eyes came to her old best friend, and how Lucy couldn't even say the name aloud. It was for the best, Lucy believed, that her parents didn't come. Her best friend hadn't come from a good home with two loving parents but rather from parents who constantly screamed at each other and drank. They would've disturbed something today. And she remembered her best friend enough to know that her parents bickering was the last thing wanted at the memorial.

Her eyes came to her old classmates and her teachers. Though Lucy didn't know all of them personally, she could remember small features. In the town newspaper, there was a story about all of them, what their lives were like, and Lucy felt as if she got to know all of them somehow.

Handing resting on the stone, she calmed herself. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her body shook. This was what goodbye felt like. Lucy didn't know if she was coming back, ever. Lucy didn't know if she wanted to come back, ever. This wasn't her home, and these names were no longer her family. Lucy would love them until the end of time, but this was the end of their time.

"Goodbye."