lost // h.s

vii.

police are investigating the death of 27-year-old gemma styles, in the town of mayberry, whose body was discovered early sunday morning on the ground floor of mayberry high, a building abandoned long ago, and is currently scheduled for demolition. authorities were called to the scene at 4:43 a.m. by a janitor who found the body. preliminary indications suggest miss styles may have died of third-degree murder, but police have yet to rule out foul play and drug use.

"we're still gathering information," said police spokesperson sergeant tony brand. "we'll have a report about the time and cause of death when the coroner finishes the autopsy."

miss styles, known to friends as gemma, was a notable alumni of mayberry high and an outspoken member, openly active in school and community affairs. during her late years, she was known for working at starling enterprises, one of mayberry's prized companies. superintendent of starling enterprises stephen montgomery said the styles family's loss was "heartbreaking".

"gemma was what we all want our children to grow up to be: bright, hardworking and kind," said montgomery. when asked to comment on reports that miss styles had a troubled background, he said, "most young adults today struggle with something. gemma had made great strides in embracing a healthy life. the last time i talked to her, she said she was trying to choose between a caesar salad and a doughnut. her death is as tragic as it is shocking."

autopsy results are expected later in the week. funeral plans were incomplete at press time.

zayn switched the tv off, sitting down and shoving his fingers through his hair. he blinked back tears from bloodshot eyes, his thick lashes stuck together in wet clumps. there is a weight in his chest and a lock in his throat he has never experienced before. it is painful. it is unbearable.

then he hears lyle's footsteps padding lightly on the floorboards; he senses her coming closer and so he sits up straight and wipes his eyes in a rush.

"is there something wrong?" lyle knocks on his bedroom, the door creaking as her light muffled voice reverberates in the air. his back is still facing her and he does not turn around.

he felt a little dip on the mattress. then a second later, a gentle hand on his shoulder. "zayn?"

"she's dead." he turns around to looks at her and lyle draws her hand back, her lips parting in shock as soon as she takes notice of her cousin's vermilion-rimmed eyes. it almost scares her.

"who?" she says, sucking in a breath.

zayn looked down at his tattooed hands that were noticeably shaking before his eyes flickered back up to her. "gemma," he blurted with wide eyes. "gemma's dead."

she stiffened.

and suddenly, her heartbeat seemed to echo all around her. the guilt lyle had felt then did not only sit on her chest but squeezed at her brains, her whole body; it practically coursed through her veins. it was like gasoline in her guts, ice in her heart and fire in her throat. it burned. she sits there stunned - she doesn't know what to say or think or do. she is speechless as the shame sets in, and the guilt, and, upstairs, the clock kept ticking on, impossibly loud to her ears. the air around her chokes her with rancor and anxiety; she remembers the last time she felt this way and it hits her like a sledgehammer.

she shot a sideways glance at zayn: his hands are balled into fists as he bunches up the bedspread, clenching the material so hard that his knuckles were a mottled, pale white. he looked like was going to combust at any second, like lead and gunpowder waiting to be ignited. inside lyle too a battle was being waged: panic on one side, partnered with dread, and, on the other, spurred by a knowledge that is twice as hideous as it is incriminating.

she couldn't bear to be in the same room as him. he was heartbroken, he had lost one of his best friends and was completely and utterly threaded with desolation and grief that it was palpable in the air around them. meanwhile she was strangely consumed with regret, compounded with the experience of loss that she had endured not too long ago.

sitting there, she put her hands on her lap. she couldn't look at zayn, or say anything to him. she couldn't offer him any consolidation because she didn't even know what to say! she was useless.

after gathering her nerves, she rose up and tentatively walked back towards her bedroom. she felt shaky and weird and light-headed. she shut the door behind her and leaned her back against it. she stood there until she could breathe, then she listened to zayn's uneven footsteps until they faded, until all was quiet, save for the clock ticking and her own heart thudding in her belly, her eyes, her bones.