To Fall So Deep

It seemed like the press had nothing better to do but litter the front yard of the Styles residence, causing a chaotic ruckus. Angry protestors and determined journalists alike gathered before the mansion shouting crude comments and slander. Many held picket signs advertising dirty ideas about Desmond Styles, and some wore customized sweaters.

When Harry arrived onto the scene, the horde of people bombarded his car and all cameras turned to the black Range Rover. Without the possibility of running some of them over, though Harry almost wished he could, he parked his car in the middle of the street. He pushed open his car door, keeping his head down low.

“Harry! Harry! Do you have a personal vendetta against your father?”

“Are you hiding a secret sickness too? Harry!”

“Were you and your sister abused as children?”

Harry ignored the several questions that were being hurled at him and concentrated on getting behind the gate and into the confines of his home. The horde barricaded the iron gate and Harry pushed his way through the mass. His hands reached out towards the cold bars and grabbed ahold of them, using it as an anchor to pull himself out of the sea of people.

Harry looked up at the gate looming before him; the hindrance to salvation. He exhaled, a wisp of his warm breath twirling in front of his lips. Harry grasped the black poles, and with all his strength, he lifted himself off of the ground. He climbed the gate, struggling to stay above ground.

“The youngest Styles is climbing the residence’s gate,” a reporter announced as a camera crew captured Harry’s act.

Harry finally made it to the top of the gate and he threw one leg over, followed by the other before jumping down onto the other side of the gate. In true Harry fashion, he gave a cheeky smirk to the reporters and protestors behind the gate before turning on his heel. He ran up the pathway and to the front door of the house where he entered.

Like routine, Harry sped down to the same back hall where the same elevator was, crashing the palm of his hand on the button. As he rode up to the third floor, his breath finally caught up with him, just in time for the elevator doors to slide open, but what he saw before him made his breath filter away.

“Gemma,” Harry breathed, stepping out of the lift and into the cold loft. He could feel darkness surround his body, and the unwanted feeling made him shudder.

He gulped, stepping closer and closer to the frail body lying on the bed. A thin, bony hand lay dangling over the edge, where a bucket of vomit sat.

“Gemma, it’s me,” Harry sat on the empty space of the bed, observing his dying sister. He sat his phone down on the bedside table next to an untouched cup of tea.

Gemma lay with her eyes closed, and her breathing uneven. She was even thinner from when he last saw her; it was as if her own breath could break her body. It had only been one day. One day. It was crazy yet heart wrenching to see how much the cancer could destroy her in 24 hours time.

“Harry,” a soft voice escaped Gemma’s lips. “You’re back.”

She coughed harshly, holding a napkin to her mouth. Gemma brought the napkin down and hastily crumpled it into her hand, but not before Harry caught a glimpse of the blood staining it. He closed his eyes for a second, as if the act would ebb the pain.

“Where’s your wife?” Gemma forced a smile, trying to muster enough energy to hide the pain.

“She’s at home,” Harry answered. He felt his stomach churn with uneasiness.

“I told you I wanted to meet her,” Gemma told him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry breathed. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and his nose flared.

“Baby bro, you’re not going to cry are you?” Gemma chuckled.

“How can I not?” Harry wiped the solitary tear that dribbled down his cheek, “dude… you can’t leave me now.”

“You knew this was going to happen,” Gemma shrugged.

“I guess I’m just not ready to let you go,” Harry confessed. Gemma reached out and touched Harry’s warm hand with her cold one.

“And I’m not quite ready to let you go little bro, but I know you’ll be in good hands,” Gemma started. Her words were slow, and her breath heavy, but she pushed through the unbearable pain to give her brother one last piece of advice, “Harry you have your friends. You have good health, your education, and even though they’re a little fucked up, you have mum and dad who love you unconditionally. But most of all you have Nina, and her love. I’m dying, but not really. I love you Harry.”

“I love ya too Gemma,” Harry broke into tears as he let himself fall into the crook of Gemma’s neck. He hugged her fragile body tight, but scared that her body could snap from his embrace.

The elevator doors slid open and a couple pairs of feet shuffled through the wooden floors. There was a loud gasp that prematurely broke the Styles siblings’ embrace.

“Mum, Dad,” Harry whispered to himself, glaring at his parents who both stood a few feet away from Gemma’s bed.

Desmond Styles had his arms to his sides, hands clenched tightly. His entire face was red with fury, and his eyes were dark and beady. Next to him was Anne, who unlike her husband, exuded compassion and relief. Her face held notes of happiness, and tears brimmed her waterline.

“Harry,” Anne breathed, running towards the son she realized she never wanted to lose. She hugged him tightly, tears spilling from her eyes. “Harry, my son, I thought I’d lost you. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Harry quietly questioned, “are you not angry at me?”

“Angry?” Anne pulled away from the hug, her tear-stained cheeks puffy and red. She looked at Harry with surprise, “sweetheart no… what you did is least of my worries. I just don’t want to lose you as a son.”

“Oh Anne stop it!” Desmond yelled, “he’s only asking for attention, and he’s sending this entire family on a downward spiral!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry let out a vile chuckle, standing from the bed, “I’m causing this family’s downward spiral?”

“You turned your back to your own family—your own flesh and blood. You sold your own father out, when I’ve done nothing but provide for you. I gave you an education, I put a roof over your head, food in your mouth, gave you the best cars, electronics… you never had to worry once about when your next meal would come, and you repay me back like this?”

“Yes, you’ve given me more than what other kids could ever imagine, but physical things will never replace what Gemma or I really wanted in life!”

“And what is it exactly that you want so bad that you thought that throwing your father under the bus was a good idea,” Desmond hollered.

“To understand!” Harry screamed, waving his hands in the air, “can’t you understand that Gemma doesn’t want to be stuck in this house all day? You can throw your money on the biggest TV, all the DVDs, and endless amounts of ice cream for her but it will never compensate for the fact that all my sister fucking wants is to live her last days on Earth doing things outside of this hell hole!”

“You are an insolent, pretentious little boy and I can’t believe you are my son!”

“Please! Stop fighting!” Anne screamed, standing in between the two men, “can we just be a happy family again?”

“Happy?” Desmond chuckled, “family? We can be a family again when he—“ Desmond pointed to Harry with a stern finger, “leaves this house and out of our lives.”

“No one is leaving,” Anne’s voice cracked, turning to face her husband. Holding on Desmond’s shoulders, Anne cried pleadingly for him to do the one thing he kept failing to do—understand.

Harry stood angry with his arms crossed at his chest as he watched his mother break down in front of him. He looked away, not having the heart to watch his mum fall to her knees and beg at his father’s feet.

“Mum,” a small voice piped up. No one seemed to notice as Gemma sat up, slinging her feet out of her blankets and off the edge of the bed.

“Can we please just forget about all of this,” Anne cried, “we’re losing our daughter, and we’re slowly losing our son... I am a mother Desmond! A God damned mother, and I will continue to be!”

“Stop fighting,” Gemma held onto the bedside table for support as her legs wobbled in fragility. Her breathing became scarce as she continued to regain her balance.

BANG.

Harry, Anne, and Desmond’s heads snapped in the direction of the loud crash. An ear-piercing shriek escaped Anne’s mouth, and Harry’s stomach dropped a thousand feet.

“Gemma!” Harry shouted, running towards the helpless body that lay stationary on the floor. The nightstand had tumbled next to her, and Harry’s phone was facedown in a pool of hot tea. The green oxygen tank fell in a loud crash, and rolled against the adjacent wall.

Harry lifted Gemma’s head and laid it gently on his lap, “wake up! You’re okay! You’re good! Wake up!”

“My baby girl,” Anne dropped to her knees and hugged Gemma’s unmoving body.

Desmond, who was still in utter shock, stood stationary with his eyes fully widened, “Gemma…”

“Please wake up, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Harry sobbed, hugging onto his sister’s head and leaning into her. “Gemma, you’re fine, you can get up now!”

“What did you do?! Desmond, what did you do?!” Anne screamed at the top of her lungs, a slew of tears cascading rapidly down her face. She turned to face her monster of a husband who didn’t know what to do or say.

Everything seemed unreal in that moment in time, and Harry couldn’t comprehend exactly what was going on. It hadn’t fully hit him that his only sister and someone he considered his best friend was no longer with him. The years of knowing Gemma’s condition was not enough time to prepare for this final moment.

No one could prepare for a moment like this, and Harry was not immune to it. Gemma, who was always there for Harry was off to a better place, but Harry would’ve given anything to send her away in a more peaceful manner.

As the tears silently rolled down Harry’s face, he prayed harder than ever for some kind of miracle; some kind of magic to make Gemma’s eyes open. But as life would have it, her green eyes never saw light again, and Harry was left with half a broken heart.

Notes

Can we have a unison, "awwww...."

Yes, Gemma has unfortunately passed due to her condition. I knew I was going to kill her off, but I was not going to do it early into the story. Any who, I really hope you all still enjoyed this chapter even though it's a sad one. Please let me know what you think of it... even if you hate it, tell me why so I can improve. There are four more chapter left to this story, including the epilogue. Eeeekkkk, so crazy!! haha! Hope everyone is doing well, and enjoying their summer! Thank you again for taking the time to read TO FALL SO DEEP, I seriously appreciate it SO much!! Have an awesome weekend everyone!

--Erica Jaine <33